


Clay Horses

by Chngminxo



Series: Tales from Huingol [2]
Category: B.A.P, K-pop
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternative Universe - Kingdom, Angst, Drama, Following Himchan and Jongup, M/M, Minor Character Death, Set three and a half years before Valley of the Horse King, Soldiers and Princes, Violence, and all that good stuff, can't forget that, explicit content, mature themes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-21
Updated: 2016-10-22
Packaged: 2018-07-25 20:03:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 84,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7546025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chngminxo/pseuds/Chngminxo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In early summer, two brothers lose their father, and the peninsula loses its King. As the heir ascends the throne, Himchan must battle between his duty, and his desire.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Footsteps fell heavy and loud on stone floors towards the chamber. Low moans and staccato breaths punctured the air and developed in a steep crescendo as Yongguk approached and the rhythm of a bedpost hitting a stone wall was accentuating each movement in the bedroom.

 

“My Lord-,” came a loud gasp, followed by a low groan and a curse, the rustling of sheets and clothing enhancing the impurity of such a performance.

 

Yongguk pressed his hand to the half-closed door and slammed it open, watching as his brother calmly lifted his head and a flushed maid scrambled for clothing in a hasty attempt to conceal her nudity. Himchan, however, made no such movement, the young prince uncaring of how his brother saw him as he languidly relaxed against the mattress, his arm tucking beneath his head.

 

“My my brother. How kind of you to pay me a visit.” Himchan said, watching as the maid dropped to the floor to kneel in front of the elder man. Yongguk wanted to wipe the cocky amusement off his brother's face.

 

“Crown Prince Yongguk, forgive me!” The maid gushed as she bowed before him.

 

Yongguk looked over her head, his eyes meeting his brother's, “King Yongguk.” He said.

 

All mirth fell from Himchan's face and his kiss-swollen lips parted in surprise, “When...” He voiced, feeling a weight collapse onto his shoulders as his brother stood tall.

 

“An hour ago.” Yongguk replied.

 

“Yongguk I didn't know-”

 

“You would have if you allowed a single one of the people I sent to tell you.” The King bit back. Himchan could see the hurt and loss brewing in his brother's eyes, but Yongguk was holding it in, masking it instead with an expression of anger. The maid continued to prostrate on the floor, and Yongguk gestured towards the door, “Leave us.”

 

Her fingers curled into her remaining clothing and she left in a hurry to flee the room within which the royal brother's stood. Himchan grabbed his pants from the floor and pulled them over his legs, a hand running through his hair, trying to focus, trying to figure out what it was he was supposed to do. How he was supposed to feel.

 

The King was dead, he knew what that meant. That meant meetings and memorials, Lords and Generals coming to pay their respects for the passing monarch. Gifts would be sent from all over the peninsula, and the great city of Huingol would enter a state of mourning.

 

What Himchan didn't understand, was what it meant for his father to be gone. The kind King who doted upon him as though he and Yongguk truly were brothers. The man who looked beyond his position of power and had always been so affectionate with his three children. The man who held him as a child when he fell and scraped his knee, who encouraged him, and who loved him.

 

“I...” Himchan started, but he shook his head, eyes downcast.

 

“I know.” Yongguk replied, his face solemn as he reached down and grabbed Himchan's discarded robes from the floor, throwing them to his brother. Himchan caught them, swallowing hard even though his mouth was dry, “Clothe yourself. We have a court to address.. And you have a mother to comfort.”

 

Himchan pulled on his robes hastily, his brow creasing in concern as he thought of his mother and how she would fare at the news. He did the front of his robe hastily and followed Yongguk through the halls, shocked and confused servants parting for the regal brothers to pass.

 

The bronze doors of the court were opened by armed guards, and Himchan stepped in beside his elder half brother. Lords, Ladies and Generals alike turned to face them as Yongguk stood tall before the court of Huingol. One by one, all in the room dropped to their knees and bowed low upon the floor as Himchan announced with a tight throat and heavy heart, “Long live the King.”

 

*

 

The forest was quiet and serene as it sat under the wide blue skies of early Summer. The air was warming and the snow had finally melted, exposing lush foliage growing below. Small animals and gritters scrambled between rocks and fresh growth to grow more accustomed to the warmer temperatures, searching eagerly around rocks and trees to find the first fresh food after a long winter living off little more than seeds and bark.

 

Squirrels darted into trees, while ants and beetles explored across the moss and beneath the leaves that had fallen last autumn and had been trapped under the heavy weight of snow. Across a small gully between trees, a Doe stood, her head dipped down to the ground and her teeth scraping slowly across the curved shape of a round boulder at her feet, sucking the sweet nectar of flowering moss between her lips.

 

Jongup was silent, still as a statue as he stood with bow raised, his arm drawn back and one eye squinted closed. He sucked in slow, deep breaths and he felt the air over his skin. One more moment, and she would lift her head, one more moment and his aim would be perfect.

 

The doe rose her head, Jongup released his arrow and it sung through the air with a natural ease and sliced through her jugular. She fell with a loud thud onto the ground, and she was dead.

 

“Gods above, Jongup.” Came his brother's familiar voice over his shoulder. The young soldier glanced back at him with a sad half-smile, he never liked taking a life, even if he needed to eat. Moon Jongup was nothing beyond average height with a mess of jet black hair and a lithe, muscular frame. Born into a military family, it had been expected of him from a young age to join the ranks of Huingol's army but his natural talent and physical capabilities had not been anticipated, “Very few would be able to kill a deer in one shot, little brother.” Moon Jonghwan said from where he sat perched upon a dry rock.

 

“I do as my body tells me, Hyung.” Jongup said, slinging his bow across his shoulder. With grace, he leapt down and across the gully, landing on the soft foliage. The doe lay on her side, blood pooling around her and an arrow protruding from where it had severed her throat and ended her life swiftly and painlessly. The young man pressed the palm of his hand against her side, stroking down to her shoulder and pressing his forehead just below her ear, “I'm sorry, sweet girl. May Noeul bless you when you meet.”

 

With little struggle, he extracted the arrow and wiped it against a mossy rock, tucking it back into his quiver as he stood. Jongup made swift work of tying her front and hind ankles, then carefully lifted her to over his shoulder, carrying her back towards his elder brother, and the horses they arrived upon, “Mama will be pleased you brought her home.” Jonghwan said, keeping a chestnut mare still so that Jongup could carefully fasten the game to her back to be carried home.

 

“Her meat will last us at least eight days.” Jongup said with a nod. He scratched just behind the mare's ear just before he mounted his own horse, moving with his brother back towards the gates of their city home.

 

Huingol was full of movement. Men and women parted ways to allow the brothers through sitting astride their horses. Some reached out and brushed fingers over the coats of the sacred and beloved animals, while others just watched them pass and soon Jongup and Jonghwan disappeared into the bowels of the city. Carts passed through mud created from melted snow on the dirt roads, while the sun shone and had the warm golden stone the city was built from radiating in the light.

 

They turned into a small courtyard through an open gate and Jonghwan was the first to dismount, dropping his boot clad feet to the ground and patting the neck of his tall horse in thanks. Jongup followed him, doing the same and allowing his colt to drink from the trough against the wall that separated their home from that beside it. With care, the youngest of the Moon brothers lifted the doe to once again hold her over his shoulder.

 

The front door opened and a third man entered the courtyard, the eldest of the three brothers, “Success?” He asked with a furrowed brow and downturned lips. Jonghwan nodded, clapping their youngest on the back.

 

“Jonguppie slaughtered a doe in one shot.” He said, his brows raising at the expression on their eldest brother's face, “Why so solemn, Hyung?” Jonghwan asked with a chuckle, nudging Jongup towards the barn where they could gut the doe and ready her meat for their table. The eldest, Jongin, followed them, leaning against the wide doorframe as he watched Jongup lower his hunt onto the ground.

 

“The King is dead.” He said, tone even. Jongup's brows raised and he lifted his head, lips parting in shock.

 

“What?” Jonghwan asked, “When?”

 

“This morning.”

 

Jongup straightened his spine and pushed his black hair from where it had fallen into his eyes, “And Father?” he asked, Jongin smiling tightly and shaking his head.

 

“He went to the palace as soon as news broke. He wishes to speak to the new King.” He explained, glancing towards their house, then over at the gate his younger brothers had returned through, “The elite soldiers will be gathered tomorrow and presented to the King. It will not be his first time watching us, but we are an asset he shall want to see.”

 

Jonghwan nodded and pursed his lips, “What time will we need to make it to the fields?”

 

“Dawn, at the latest.” Jongin said, sending Jongup a gentle smile. The youngest had creased brows and sad eyes as he looked down at the doe that lay dead on their barn floor, “Jonguppie?”

 

“He will be so sad...” Jongup murmured, licking over his dry lower lip, “He will come and see us tomorrow, watch us train, assess us like a King, but inside, Hyung. His heart will hurt.”

 

Jongin stepped forward and grasped Jongup's strong shoulder and pressed his lips to his brother's tanned forehead, “But the line shall continue, and the new King will be crowned. Noeul will bless him with her light when he comes to her.”

 

Jongup shook his head, “We have lost a King, Hyung, but he has lost a Father.” He said. One hand dipped to his belt and withdrew his knife. He dropped down to his knees on the stone floor, pulling the doe with care towards a nearby drain and pressing the blade into her skin. He didn't blink as warm blood wept from her side over his hands, both brothers watching over his shoulder.

 

“Long live the King.” Jonghwan said.

 

“Long live the King.” Jongin echoed.

 

*

 

The sun rose like a bleeding heart over the valley. News of the King's death spread like fire through Huingol, leaping between houses and weighing the city down with grief. Mourning a King was an all-encompassing pain, and when Yongguk awoke before dawn the following morning, the sky cried with them.

 

He bathed in scented water and ate food that he could not taste. A maid came to him and helped him dress lavishly in rich silks of black and gold, while anothed tied his black hair in a knot atop his head. When alone, he took hold of the crown that sat staring at him upon a silken pillow, and placed it atop his head. His reflection looked almost comical as he gazed upon himself in a mirror, his black hair held back from his young face and his dark eyes weary with sadness.

 

“It suits you.” The familiar tone of his half-brother came from the door and Yongguk blinked, remembering himself and standing straighter. He assessed his reflection once again, a hand straightening the golden crown and looking down upon his body.

 

“I feel like a boy trying to dress in his father's robes.” He said, turning his head and looking to his younger half-brother.

 

“From the day you were born, Yongguk, that crown has been destined for your head.” Himchan voiced as he stepped further into the room, crossing the space between them and straightening Yongguk's robe.

 

“Yet now it is upon it...” He trailed off and shook his head, right hand lifting and removing the lavish jewellery. He couldn't wear it. Himchan smiled sadly and pulled back, his arms folding over his chest, “How is your mother?” Yongguk asked.

 

“She won't speak. Not yet.” The younger responded, “I believe she was intending to visit our sister this morning. I asked for Daehyun to remain with her.”

 

Yongguk smiled at the thought of their boyhood companion, “He understands loss.” He said, nodding and exhaling a slow breath, “There is a lot to be done in the coming days, I am glad that she will be cared for. She may not have bore me, Himchan... But she has always been like a mother, and treated me as though I were hers.”

 

“She loves you like you are.” Himchan responded, glancing towards the door.

 

The new King nodded and glanced once more uneasily into the mirror, “Will you join me in seeing the troops?” He asked, but Himchan shook his head no.

 

“I should go in search of my mother.” He said, “General Kwon will be your guide?”

 

“Yes, it is his troops in particular I have been asked to assess. There are some he believes are of special worth.” Yongguk responded.

 

“He expects you to select him as the Master General.” Himchan stated, stepping closer. Himchan had been elevated to the position of General himself not long after the brother's twentieth summer years ago, and he knew all that was discussed in the depths of the war rooms.

 

“Master General is the most powerful position on the peninsula, second only to King.” Yongguk said, his head turning, “Father warned me against selecting him. He claims Kwon and his brother will try and manipulate me to gain control of his own over the Kingdom.”

 

“The perfect outcome.” Himchan snorted, “I am sure he also expects you to marry his niece.”

 

A dry smile tugged at Yongguk's full lips, “Father gave me a name of who he encouraged me to choose.”

 

Footsteps and clattering armour came through the hall and a guard stopped beside a cleric in the doorway, waiting for their King to join them in his morning duties. Himchan watched as his brother moved to leave, his spine straight and his expression schooled, he looked like a King.

 

“Who?” Himchan asked, just before Yongguk departed.

 

The King turned and looked back over his shoulder with the softest hint of a mournful smile then disappeared down the hall and towards the sunbathed practice yards that sat behind the Palace, against the city walls.

 

Soldiers stood gathered on the gravel ground, their uniforms of deep grey-blue with black shoes and white socks holding them together in a unison. Some had swords or knives, others had bows while all stretched and warmed their muscles in the dawn light for the coming advertisement of their talents.

 

Jongup stretched his arms over his head before he bent forward and pressed both palms flat against the gravel ground before him. Across the city, tucked in between factories and the great wall that surrounded them were the barracks that housed Huingol's army. The sons of farmers and factory workers trained on wide practice fields under the beating sun to create the infantry and cavalry that protected their city, but hidden within the Palace complex was a strategical secret. A different class of military elite, trained from a young age to form a group of superior warriors.

 

“I hear the King is choosing a bodyguard.” Jonghwan said, watching Jongup go through his stretches.

 

“It is important for the King to familiarise himself with us. I am sure this will merely be routine.” Jongin said in response. While Jonghwan was often the brother who shared the most information, it was Jongin who added reason. The middle of the Moon brothers had many friends and shared in the city gossip, while Jongin calmed the fantasy, discouraging such carelessness. Jongup, however, remained silent and never bought into the bickering his brothers often did.

 

Jongin nudged the youngest, earning his attention, “I am sure General Kwon is eager to show you off, Jonguppie.” He said with a chuckle, messing his brother's hair. Jongup shrugged and did not speak.

 

“Your talents are exceptional. Kwon should be proud to have you within his regiment.” Jonghwan agreed, stepping away from the others to fasten his shoes tighter upon his feet, “Though we all know whom he favours the most.” The middle brother cast a look to their eldest, who rolled his eyes at such insinuation. Jongin had been training below the General for the longest of the three, and his skills were often showered in praise.

 

A drum sounded and the brother's looked up. The King was approaching.

 

Soldiers straightened their stances and formed lines, hands clasped behind their backs, expressions schooled. They stared ahead and waited. A call, another beat and each warrior stepped forward with a grunt of movement, their right hands held before their chest, their left pushed out before them. It was a basic routine, an example of how they moved together in one mass of perfected unity, and how that unity could bring them together into a single weapon.

 

Jongup did not break his gaze from where it was focused ahead, but he could see the flash of golden silk from the corner of his left eye as their King assessed them. He was young, the same age as Jongin who was facing the start of his fifth summer in the regiment, but Jongup knew little about him other than that.

 

A third beat and they changed position, rotating their hips and raising their right legs into the air in a stylised kick, another grunt.

 

“Some of my men have been training since they were boys.” General Kwon's gruff voice said as he lead the King in front of the troops, watching them carefully, “They have developed exceptional skill. Sons of Generals and Lords who have been raised with one goal in mind.”

 

“You told me you had some in particular you wished to show me, General.” The King said. His voice was deep but it was even, betraying no hint of emotion.

 

“Yes, Your Majesty. Three brothers, my three best.” Kwon voiced, stopping still directly before them, “Moon Jongin, Moon Jonghwan and Moon Jongup, Your Majesty.”

 

The three straightened their stance and dropped to their knees, foreheads pressing to the cold dirt in greeting of their new King. Silence lingered on for a moment, then the King spoke, “You may rise.” Jongup stood straight, his hands clasped behind his back and his eyes focused ahead, not wishing to stare at their monarch of only a day as he surveyed them, “The children of General Moon, yes?”

 

“You are correct, Your Majesty.” Kwon said, stepping back and beckoning the three brothers forward, “Their father has trained them from a young age to be proficient in blade and bow, I am sure they will make an impression, and one of them would be my recommendation for what you seek.”

 

“Show me their skill.” Yongguk instructed and General Kwon smiled in satisfaction. With a wave of his hand, the soldiers halted their routine and parted to expose the practice dummies and targets lined against the stone wall behind them. Servants and pages came forward, handing the three brothers each a bow made of strong oak, a quiver of arrows being offered alongside.

 

General Kwon pressed his hands together and nodded, “We shall start with the eldest, Moon Jongin.” He said with a nod, gesturing him forward. A page rushed ahead as Jongin straightened his stance and carefully brought an arrow to the string of his weapon. A wooden dummy was pulled forward, standing tall as a man with its right arm raised as though in the lunge of an attack, “if this was a man, show me how you would... Incapacitate him to protect your King.”

 

Jongin lifted his bow and pulled the string back until it nudged his cheek. With one eye closed, he released the arrow and it sung through the air, landing solidly into the chest of the dummy with a second following in quick succession to sink deep into the model's throat. Kwon chuckled and clapped his hands, “Good, boy, good. Now, focus on the target.” Jongin turned to the General and nodded, loading a third arrow into his bow and releasing it moments later. With a thud, it hit just off the centre of the target and the eldest of the three boys smiled in satisfaction.

 

It was Jonghwan next who pulled back his string. He sucked in a deep breath and with a hiss through his teeth, he released his first arrow. It hit the head of the dummy, and as he loaded and fired the second, it sunk deep into the straw stomach. Jongup felt himself wincing at the sight, that would not kill, it would lead to the unfortunate soldier bleeding out in a slow and painful death. He voiced nothing, however, simply watching as his brother took his final shot at the target. The arrow landed just left of centre but it was a good enough shot to earn praise again from Kwon.

 

Finally, eyes turned to him, “Moon Jongup, take your shot.” Jongup knew his brothers were watching him as he raised his bow and closed his eyes. The cool morning air brushed against his hot skin, and he took in a deep breath. He timed his breathing with the beat of his heart, listening to the air as he released his first arrow. It hit the bicep of the model, right by the edge almost as though he had nearly missed entirely. Next, he reloaded and once again focused, but this time the metal head sunk into the hard wood of the model's centre thigh.

 

General Kwon's lips curled as he turned to Jongup with distaste, finding such failure a humiliation, “Are you a fool?” he bit out, but Jongup did not flinch. He looked at his arrows and squinted his eyes to see them clearer, then nodded in satisfaction.

 

It was the King who stepped forward with curiosity, “Why did you choose the arm and leg, Moon Jongup?” He asked, glancing to the younger.

 

“Your Majesty,” He began in a soft voice, his fingers tightening their grip around the arch of his bow, “The position of the first arrow would sever the lower twists of his muscle. Any higher and they would have hit bone, but this way, the arrow would penetrate through muscle and flesh and render the man incapable of raising his sword-arm.” He said, “The second arrow does something similar in his thigh. If it were to the left, it would sever an artery and he would bleed out slowly and painfully, but where it is, the head will imbed its self in his bone and cut into muscles. He will not be able to walk.”

 

“He cannot walk, nor raise a sword.” Yongguk said, the corner of his lips twitching, “You have incapacitated him without killing him.”

 

Jongup nodded once, “It may take weeks or months for him to walk again, and he may never regain the strength to wield a sword.” He said, then turned to the King, “But he is alive.”

 

“And why spare him? If he is an enemy, here to attack, why spare his life?” The King asked, surveying the boy's expression.

 

“Because every soldier has a mother, Your Majesty, and I do not wish to punish her for the orders a soldier is given.” He said, “I will do everything within my power to protect you, and to protect Huingol, but it will only ever be my last resort to take a life.”

 

The King watched Jongup's expression for a long moment. He took in the slant of his eyes, the pout of his mouth and the arch of his nose. Very little emotion was betrayed upon his face, and the King assumed it was due to a capability of concealing it, rather than a lack of feeling. He nodded once and gestured to the target, “Complete your task, Jongup.”

 

The soldier bowed his head and stepped up again, drawing the string back and holding his arrow between his index and middle finger. The pad of his thumb was pressed to his jaw and he released the arrow with an exhale of breath. It struck the target dead in the centre.

 

Kwon glanced at the youngest of the three brothers, his lips pursed in distaste. He knew of Jongup's skill, but he had not favoured the youngest of the Kwon brothers as the one to catch the King's eye. With a sharp chuckle and a shake of his head, the General stepped forward, “A lucky shot, I'm sure.” He said.

 

Yongguk arched a brow at the man, “If it is a lucky shot, then I am sure the young Moon boy would offer to take another.” He suggested, gesturing with his hand for Jongup to repeat the action. He brushed his fingers over the quiver and withdrew a final arrow, fitting it easily against the string and licking his dried lips.

 

The pad of his thumb brushed against the fletching and he closed his eyes. Breathe in, breathe out. A bird was calling somewhere upon the wall, elsewhere feet chafed against gravel. The sun's rays were already warmer than they had been when the soldiers had made their way tired but disciplined onto the field. With a final intake of breath, Jongup released the arrow and opened his eyes.

 

Jongin and Jonghwan opened their mouths in shock as they watched the head of Jongup's arrow cleave straight through the one that protruded from the centre of the target and imbed its self there. The perfect shot.

 

When Jongup lifted his head, General Kwon was staring and Yongguk was smirking. He glanced to the young soldier and turned, already making his way from the practice yard with General Kwon scurrying to catch up, “Him.” The King said aloud, “I choose him.”

 

“Your majesty, his elder brothers _especially Jongin_ have much more practice-” Kwon tried to reason, but the King shook his head as they returned to the halls of the palace, leaving behind them the uniformed soldiers all watching the young archer in shock.

 

“I choose him.” The King stated again, glancing back at the much elder man, “I will meet with his father tonight and I will arrange with my assistants to have living quarters set up for him if he accepts the position.”

 

“With all due respect, Your Majesty-” Kwon tried again, but Yongguk stopped walking and instead turned to look at the elder man, his eyes sharp.

 

“I have made my decision, General.” He said, voice firm and lacking in room for movement or argument, “Do not question me, or deter me from my path.” The much older man clenched his jaw and bowed his head with the twisting forced smile that had settled on his thin and chapped lips, “I must speak to my brother.”

 

The King disappeared down the hall in a whisper of black and golden silk, leaving the stunned General behind.

 

*

 

Early summer nights in the valley were still cold. Safe inside every house, families huddled around a burning hearth, warming their hands and toes by the fire in the hopes of comfort while their Horses were kept in the security of hay lined stables.

 

Jongup rubbed his palms together as he stood in the glow of the fire, his dark hair flopping into his eyes as he stared deep into the golden flames, “You should have seen the expression on General Kwon's face, Mama!” Jonghwan was boasting with a laugh, “Jongup not only hit a bulls-eye first time, but with his second arrow he _cleaved the second in half!”_

 

“Hush now, Jonghwan.” Their kind mother said, her voice filled with pride even as she chastised, “What would your father say if he heard you speaking of the General that way?”

 

“Papa doesn't like Kwon.” Jonghwan said, pursing his lips and rolling his eyes. With his index and middle finger he grabbed a slice of freshly cooked venison, placing it upon his tongue and narrowly avoiding the waving hand of his mother who reached to smack him upside the head.

 

“It is unwise to say such things.” Jongin said with a pointed look to his middle brother, then turned his gaze to their youngest. Jongup was silent under the praise, he did not boast of his achievements, he merely smiled and accepted them with a nod.

 

Jonghwan just rolled his eyes, “Still, Mama. You should have seen Jonguppie. I think the King was impressed.”

 

“I'm sure he was.” She agreed, glancing to her youngest, “Jonguppie, my love, come and eat. You must stay strong.”

 

“Yes, Mama.” Jongup finally voiced. He still wore his uniform, when he had arrived home the first thing he had done was spend time speaking with his horse. The stables were cool in the afternoon shadows, but Boyeon's rich caramel side was always warm as Jongup pressed himself to it.

 

The boy stepped from by the fire towards the large table, licking his lips as he plopped easily down in a seat, joined soon after by his brothers. Five clay horses sat on the wood before him, organised in a line. Their original purpose had been for strategy, to be placed upon a map of the peninsula in representation of soldiers, but ever since he had been a small boy he had loved playing with their small forms in the mud outside. Their father had scolded him, forbidding him to touch them until he finally relented and promised his youngest child that he could play with them if he treated them with care.

 

Jongup knew that one day he would need to use them for his own plans and military strategy, once he became a General as his father so wished for all three of his sons.

 

“Eat, boys.” Their Mama said, her smile warm and filled with adoration as she watched them dig in to the meal presented just as the front door was pushed open and their father stepped inside. He was tall and broad, if not a little sturdy around the middle. His brow was creased with age and his eyes tired and worn, “Just in time for dinner, Jonghun.” Their mother voiced, taking her husband's coat.

 

“Good, good...” The man said, exhaling a slow breath as he surveyed his three boys.

 

“How was the Palace, Father?” Jongin asked, setting down his utensils to place his focus upon the man before him.

 

“Now, Jongin-ah, your father has just gotten home-” Their mother tried, but the General brushed his hand over her own in a gentle movement, sending her an adoring smile.

 

“It is alright, Gayeong, my love. There is... Something important I need to speak with you boys about...” He said, his brow creasing and his lips turning down into a frown, “Jonguppie-ah.”

 

“Yes, Papa?” Jongup asked, lifting his head and licking his lips clean of the food smeared across them. His eyes were focused, but his expression remained blank.

 

“The King called to speak with me alone this evening.” He said, his hand dipping into his robe and extracting a letter. It was sealed with the royal insignia, “He asked for me to give this to you.”

 

The table was silent. Jongin watched with wide, surprised eyes, while Jonghwan frowned in curiosity. The youngest took the letter with slim fingers and used the nail of his thumb to crack the welded wax that held it sealed. Small flakes of red tumbled over coarse paper and onto the table as the letter was unfolded, and Jongup began to read.

 

“Father?” Jongin asked, his brow furrowing as he requested elaboration, but the General shook his head, waiting for Jongup.

 

“Jonguppie, my love what does it say?” His Mama asked, as Jonghwan tried to read over his brother's shoulder. Jongup swallowed, his throat felt dry. The words were written in such a delicate script, and the offer was clear.

 

“It is... A letter from the King, Mama.” Jongup said, “He wishes to have me as his assistant and guard, and he is asking me to live with him in the Palace.” His brows were furrowed, his fingers curling into the parchment.

 

“You must take it. It is a great honour upon our family for you to be chosen.” The General said, and a proud smile curved over Jongin's lips, looking across to his youngest brother. Jonghwan reached over and snatched the letter, reading over it with wide eyes.

 

“It says here he will arrange for you to transition to the palace tomorrow.” The man said, his voice filled with excitement.

 

“I...” Jongup said, his brows raised. His mother slips her hand into his own, her thumb brushing gently across the back of his palm.

 

“Go on, my love.” She said. Their eyes met and he felt some of that uncertainty melt away, bathing in the warmth of her loving smile. With a slow intake of breath, he nodded and the General clapped his hands.

 

“I will send word, my boy.” He said, watching as Jongup was soon crushed under the weight of his brothers' embrace, their eyes glowing with adoration and pride. Their mother pushed herself from the table and began to gather some of his things, Jongup did not need to look at her face to know she was concealing her tears.

 

Shin Gayeong loved her sons all equally. Her first child had been a celebrated blessing upon their new marriage when she was not much older than twenty years. The second boy had come less than two years after and he had been born strong willed and followed so closely behind his elder brother. It was the third son, however, who had caught them by surprise. It had been five years since the birth of Jonghwan when she realised that once again she had fallen pregnant. The third boy had been born in the midst of the coldest winter in many years. His cheeks were red as he blinked up at her, his small chest rising and falling in quick succession as he gazed to her with big, black eyes. As a child, her youngest was quiet and gentle. He did not play with swords or stones and instead preferred to be by himself chasing bugs or mice around the courtyard, a clay horse clutched tightly in each fist. At first her husband had scolded their youngest for using such things as toys, but Jongup was so gentle, he would touch everything with the same loving care, unlike his elder brothers who would go on a destructive rampage in their childlike need to explore.

 

She was convinced Jongup was a gift from Noeul herself and he had the warmth of her grace in his heart. It pained her to know she must at last let him go.

 

Strong arms slipped around her middle as Jongup stood from the table, moving about their house and beginning to gather some of his things. General Moon kissed the side of his wife's head, then nuzzled against her ear, “Our son is grown.” He said.

 

With a sniffle and a nod, she looked down. Jongin carried a satchel towards the room where the youngest brother took sleep, Jonghwan following to help them gather and pack his clothing and possessions. Soon, his room would be empty, and he would leave their home for a new life within the palace walls.

 

*

 

Dawn rose over the frosted city. Jongup exhaled a breath of fog into the air as he finished strapping the last of his bags to Boyeon's back. He would walk alongside his sturdy colt to the Palace, it wasn't far enough to need to ride.

 

The front door swung open and fell shut, and Jongup turned his head. His father approached him, hands rubbing together in the cold and with a box tucked under his arm, “I sent word last night. They will be expecting your arrival.” He commented as Jongup stroked his fingers through Boyeon's mane, kissing the side of his head once in silent gratitude for carrying the weight.

 

“Thank you, Papa.” Jongup said, turning around to face the elder man.

 

“I am proud of you, Jongup.” General Moon assured his youngest son, his hand reaching to settle against Jongup's bicep through the furs he wore to protect himself from the morning chill.

 

“I will work hard to make sure you remain so, Papa.” The boy assured, his lips curving into a small smile, “I will return here whenever I can to visit you and Mama, and Jongin-hyung and Jonghwan-hyung.”

 

“Good.” The General smiled. He stepped forward and pressed his lips to Jongup's forehead in a loving kiss, holding the box to his son. Jongup's cold hands lifted and he took the gift, blinking down at it, “Your clay horses.”

 

“Mine, Papa?” Jongup asked, blinking in surprise.

 

“Yours. So we can always be with you, my son.” He murmured. Jongup nodded his head and tucked the box beneath his arm. A hand curved into the familiar leather of Boyeon's reins and he stepped forward to leave the sanctity of his family home.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally I am posting the first chapter of my prequel to Valley of the Horse King! I really hope you enjoyed reading it, and I hope you liked seeing the return of some of the characters from the previous story.
> 
> As is tradition, here are a handful of definitions for the chapter:  
> Jongin (Jongup's eldest brother) - From Sino-Korean 鍾 "cup, glass, goblet" and 仁 "humaneness, benevolence, kindness".  
> Jonghun (Jongup's father) - From Sino-Korean 鐘 "clock; bell" and 訓 "teach, instruct; exegesis".  
> Gayeong (Jongup's mother) - Means "beautiful flower" from Sino-Korean 佳英.  
> Boyeon (Jongup's horse) - From Sino-Korean 甫 "begin; man, father; great" or 普 "universal, general, widespread" (bo), and 娟 "beautiful, graceful" or 淵 "gulf, abyss, deep" (yeon).
> 
> Jongup's middle brother, Jonghwan, is named after Jongup's real brother, and I do not have a translation of that name. (Name definitions and translations are found from [here](http://www.behindthename.com/)
> 
> I have a special thank you to [Moonyeyedwalrus](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Moonyeyedwalrus/pseuds/Moonyeyedwalrus), for always encouraging and supporting me in all of my crazy ambitions and story ideas. This story is for you.


	2. Chapter 2

The Palace was overwhelming. It felt as though every inch of the building moved with the hustle and bustle of people, from Lords racing through halls in their rich silks to Generals with the sound of leather rubbing against leather in their military uniforms. Guards stood by every entrance, and Jongup barely knew which way was up. He had been greeted at the entrance by a cleric who read over the letter he carried bearing the King's seal and it had only been a matter of seconds before he was whipped up in the crowd, trying his best to keep his eyes focused on the man he was to follow while holding on to the few possessions he brought.

 

They turned a corner and the crowds thankfully began to dissipate, “Is it your first time within the Palace, Moon-ssi?” The cleric questioned with a glance over his shoulder. He steered to the left, then the right.

 

“No, sir.” The young soldier responded.

 

The man quirked an eyebrow, “Soldiers do not often visit our Palace.” He said. They had reached a wide set of bronze doors, guards stationed on either side. With a shift of papers and the flash of a seal, the doors were opened and Jongup was lead into an empty corridor, he continued, “What would have a young soldier venturing from his arena across the city and into our home?”

 

Jongup glanced to the cleric. He was tall and thin with a brow creased from the stresses of the palace over years. The terracotta silks of his uniform robes were worn with age, but he was dressed to perfection, not a hair on his balding head out of place, “I do not train on the fields across the city, sir.” Jongup said.

 

“You are one of Kwon's boys?” The cleric frowned. Jongup knew that there were stories surrounding the secret elite hidden within the palace and he bowed his head once in affirmative.

 

“Yes, sir.” Was his simple response. The boy turned his head and focused on the hall surrounding him. While the public corridors had been wide and bustling with activity, these were serene and calm. There were no chatting lords or clerics pacing the halls with brows furrowed and their hands clenched around a brush and parchment. Instead, there was little sound other than that of their shoes against the golden stone floors, and the soft hint of trickling water coming from a nearby courtyard.

 

“This is the private side of the Palace.” The cleric voiced as he noticed Jongup eyeing the area with a subtle curiosity, “Where the King lives.”

 

The words were a surprise, but Jongup suppressed the emotion from showing upon his face, “Is this where I am to live?” he asked instead. He glanced to his left as they passed an open door and saw a courtyard bathed in morning light, the skeleton of a silver tree standing tall over the pool of water seated in its centre. Pink blossoms clung to the branches as they drooped low over the trickling stream, each petal delicate and perfectly rounded.

 

“You will have a chamber here, yes.” Jongup noticed the man was reading from parchment in his hand, his lips pursed in concentration, “Madame Kim has arranged for a small room for you. Your role will be to remain at His Majesty's side whenever he needs you. It is vital you are always close by him.”

 

As he spoke, they turned yet another corner and Jongup was lead to a small wooden door built into the golden stone walls and sitting slightly ajar. The cleric scratched something onto his document and flashed Jongup a brief smile, “This is where I leave you.” He stated, “Please, the King asks for you to make yourself comfortable.”

 

Jongup bowed his head and licked over his lower lip, glancing to the door, “Thank you, sir.” He stated simply and stepped into the room. It was not huge, but it was definitely larger than the bedchamber in his own modest family home. A bed sat by a small window, while a chest and small writing desk were against the opposite walls. It was more space than he needed, and as he set his meagre possessions down upon the floor, he was thankful to be given the luxury of privacy.

 

The young soldier had not been in the room longer than a moment when the door was once again pushed open. A tall, slender woman entered, followed closely by a young man carrying linens in his arms. Her face was set in a sombre expression, her silk robes a deep black that had her fair skin looking sickly pale, a stark contrast to the rich tan of her male companion.

 

Jongup straightened his stance and bowed low to the newcomers, the woman hesitating in her movements to watch him, “Moon Jongup, you have arrived.” She stated simply, eyes focused on him as he once again rose to his full height which was just smaller than hers.

 

“Yes, Madame.” Jongup responded, eyes curious and expression blank. The woman nodded once simply, gesturing to the bed and stepping aside so her tanned companion could set down the fabric upon the unmade mattress.

 

“My name is Kim Hwayah.” She introduced. Jongup could see that behind the solemnity of her expression was a warmth and kindness. There was something maternal about the gaze that landed upon him, even as she stood in her black robes of mourning, “I am in charge of His Majesty's private life, and therefore also your residence here.” Jongup watched as she began to move about the room, not wishing to stop her, “His Majesty has given you this room. This wing of the palace is for his affairs, there are studies, libraries and his own chambers, and as it is your position to live by his side, it shall also be home to you.”

 

“Yes, Madame.” Jongup stated again, his hands moving to clasp behind his back as he watched her. He knew who she was, of course, very few were ignorant of the woman who mothered the late King's second, illegitimate son.

 

“Has your horse been taken to the stables?” She asked, straightening the ink pot that sat atop the wooden desk against the wall.

 

“Yes, Madame. My Boyeon has been taken to his new home.” Jongup responded. It had been hard for him to part with his companion on his initial arrival to the Palace, but he knew that the creature would be cared for well in the royal stable.

 

Hwayah quirked her lips into the faintest touch of a smile. She was beautiful, with her round eyes and slender nose, her lips formed a perfect pout and they were flushed red in the dim light of the room. Jongup wondered if her ageless beauty was alike that of her royal son, “I have known your father for many years, Jongup-ah. He is a kind man, and an intelligent man. I am pleased that His Majesty chose one of his sons.”

 

The young soldier felt his own lips twitch into the hint of a smile, “Thank you, Madame.” He said with a low bow of his head. The woman reached forward and touched her palm to his cheek, and Jongup wished he knew how to make her heart stop hurting.

 

“I will leave you to settle in, child. You may call for me if ever you need a thing.” She said, stepping back from him and moving towards the door. Her companion stepped after her and she glanced to him, “You do not have to follow me everywhere, Daehyun-ah.”

 

Jongup watched as the man, Daehyun, sent her a crooked smile, “Your son wishes for me not to leave you alone, Madame.”

 

“My son is too concerned.” Hwayah said, shaking her head once.

 

“Your son and His Majesty just wish for you to be cared for.” Was Daehyun's response. The woman's lips curved into a smile and she patted Daehyun once upon the cheek, seemingly a common sign of her affections.

 

“I am going to the persimmon courtyard to see the King's sister.” She said, glancing to Jongup and then returning her gaze to Daehyun, “You and I both know, Daehyun-ah, that she will not wish for you to join us again.”

 

Daehyun scowled slightly, his lips twisting in distaste, “I shall leave you to visit her on your own, Madame.” He said, sending Jongup a toothy grin, “Wouldn't want to upset a royal princess.”

 

Hwayah shook her head and curled her slender fingers into her skirts, lifting them from the floor just slightly, “I did not think so.” With a final glance to the young soldier, she left the room, her footsteps echoing in the quiet halls outside.

 

Jongup turned to survey the young man who remained. He was of average height with jet black hair and a neat palace uniform. The rounded pout of his lips and sharp angle of his jaw had Jongup's mind lingering on the handsomeness of his features as he began to curiously look around the room and ultimately land his gaze upon the young soldier, “So you are the new assistant Yongguk-hyung chose, hm?” He asked. Jongup noticed the way Daehyun's words slanted and rolled like ocean waves from his tongue as he spoke of the King with such an informal title, and it was clear he was not from Huingol.

 

“I am, sir.” Jongup responded. His own dark eyes followed the other's movements as he surveyed the small room, his head tilting to the side.

 

“You are not who I was expecting him to choose.” He admitted, pursing his lips in thought, “You're so...” A slender finger lifted to tap at his own lower lip in thought, gaze tracing the arch of Jongup's nose accented with a spot at the bridge, the angle of his jaw. He looked over the younger's high cheekbones and how his skin was warm with a sun-kissed glow. Jongup remained silent and he tilted his head in curiosity, awaiting the man's assessment, “Young.” Daehyun finally settled on a word.

 

The corner of Jongup's lips twitched and he shrugged his right shoulder, “Who was it you expected?”

 

Daehyun's chuckle was warm while he shook his head, “I remember the late King's guards. All tall and strong and old and brutish. I guess I shouldn't be so surprised that Yongguk-hyung chose something... Softer. Beautiful.”

 

“His Majesty chose me for my skill with blade and bow, sir.” Jongup spoke immediately, turning his head and beginning to lift his belongings onto his bed. There was not much to unpack, but what little he brought must to be put away before he needed to be once again presented to the King.

 

“Oh do not misunderstand me, Jongup-ssi. I am sure that is why he chose you.” Daehyun nodded, leaning back against the wall as he watched, “But Yongguk is not a man who wishes to intimidate. He would choose you in faith of your ability to complete your job and fulfil your position, your beauty would merely be a delightful perk, and would keep those who pay him visits at ease.”

 

The soldier undid the knot of a satchel, unfolding the fabric to reveal the clothes he packed and glancing over his shoulder, “I am sure my aesthetics are of little consequence to His Majesty.”

 

“Your _aesthetics_ may not be forefront on the King's mind... But he is not the only one who shall be looking upon you.” Daehyun stepped closer, his lips curving into an amused smirk, “but again, I am just a palace cook. What would I know of such things?” Jongup did not like the look of amusement on the foreigner's face, his own brows furrowing in concern. Daehyun released another laugh and clapped a hand against his back, “I think I shall enjoy having you around, Jongup-ah.”

 

*

 

The sheer amount of parchment spread across the desk was overwhelming. For his entire life, Yongguk had been prepared for the moment he would become King, but now it had happened he felt as though he were being dragged underwater. With every new decision that must be made, water filled his lungs until he couldn't breathe at all and no coughing or spluttering would find him relief. He was drowning, and this was only the very beginning.

 

Slender fingers curled around a document and his furrowed brows creased together as he read over words, setting the paper to his left and instead grabbing a second page to ponder. It was formidable, but it was his duty.

 

A soft rapping came at the study door and the young King lifted his aching head, the pad of his thumb pressing between his brows in an attempt to massage the tension away, “Enter.” He called.

 

The wide wooden door was pushed open and his younger brother entered. He was tall, dressed well in simple black robes but his face was tired and eyes sad. Neither brother had to speak to know how the other felt, how the weight of their father's death had every step heavy as they pushed forward in their determination to do what must be done.

 

Himchan came to a halt before his King's desk, lips curving into a weak smile as he folded both arms across his chest, “How go the Valley's affairs, brother?”

 

Yongguk shook his head and leant forward across the desk, gesturing with his hand to a chair pushed against the wall, “It is no longer just the Valley I must focus on. I have to survey trade and tensions between every Lord across the peninsula.”

 

The younger man carefully pulled the seat across the stone floor, listening to the wood screeching against tile before he sat himself down, his legs stretching out, “Surely you cannot be expected to oversee the entire Kingdom alone, Yongguk. There are clerics and statesmen who would help.”

 

“I wouldn't be a good King if I delegated my entire workload to others.” The tired ruler said.

 

“You're only one man, brother.” There was a softness, a warmth reflecting upon Himchan's tone and Yongguk's smile became more genuine at the sound, “Have you heard from our sister?”

 

“Yes.” Yongguk's brow quirked and he reached for a small clay cup, sipping at the hot tea it carried and relaxing into the slow burn of it's slide down his throat, “She sent word this morning that she wishes to speak with me. I am expecting her any moment.”

 

“I haven't seen her since...” Himchan pressed his palm to his forehead, brushing his fingers back through his mess of black locks. Usually he would tie it from his face in a more formal fashion, but that morning when he had awoken, encased by his grief beside the naked body of a palace maid, he couldn't find it within himself to care for how he looked. Being proper mattered little when one mourned.

 

“Neither have I.” Yongguk smiled sadly. Their father had not been young, nor had he been in the greatest of health but the speed of his deterioration over the months gone had been a shock to all. The King passed during his sleep, before any of the three royal siblings were given a chance to bid him a farewell. “Daehyun accompanied Hwayah to her courtyard yesterday morning.”

 

A snort of amusement echoed through the room as Himchan leant back, “I can imagine she was thrilled to see him.” The rich tone of his sarcasm had the King unleashing a soft chuckle of his own.

 

“For years I have been hoping for them to move beyond their childish dislike of one another.” He groaned, shaking his head.

 

“She is almost ten years his senior, I don't quite understand why she is so determined to hold on to years old frustrations.” Himchan chuckled in response, licking his lower lip. He hadn't heard his brother laugh since before their Father died, and he realised then just how he had missed the sound.

 

“You know our sister, Himchan. Grudges are her specialty.We'll be eighty-five and she will still be grumbling about the peasant boy from the south.” Yongguk shot back with a grin, “I am sure if you and I hadn't taken such a liking to him he would have been scared off by her years ago.”

 

Himchan's gaze lingered on Yongguk's smile, watching as the corners grew heavy and were caught once more in the gravitational drag of his grief, “Have you seen him?”

 

“This morning.” Yongguk nodded, speaking of their dearest companion from their not-too-distant youth, “He paid me a visit in my quarters, he wished to speak to me of the arrival of my assistant.”

 

“Your assistant?” Himchan's lips pursed, chuckling for a moment, “Which one of Father's old trusted have you chosen? Shim? Geun?”

 

“I chose one of my own.” The King responded, beginning to shuffle his papers, setting them aside, “Selecting one of Father's trusted Lords would bring forth an agenda. What I need my assistant to do is keep records, to stand by my side if ever there is something I need, even protect me if it comes to such a thing. There is no use employing an advisor for such a mundane task.”

 

The door pushed open and a young attendant made his way in, setting a plate of cut fruit before the King with a low bow. Himchan's eyes dragged over his skin, the slender shape of his collarbones and arch of his nose and his mouth curved into a smirk, seeing the way the young man's cheeks took a rosy flush as he noticed the prince's hungry eyes upon him, “Who did you choose then? A peasant?” The prince joked, tearing his eyes from the attendant.

 

Yongguk surveyed Himchan with an unimpressed look, his brows furrowing in thought, “A soldier. One of Kwon's elite. The youngest child of General Moon.” He stated, reaching forward and lifting a slice of fruit between his thumb and forefinger, “Thank you Minjong-ah.” He watched the servant boy bow low, his doe-like eyes flickering every few moments to the handsome prince seated across from their King, even as he scurried from the room and closed the door behind himself.

 

“Kwon's elite?” Himchan's focus returned solely to his brother, his brows furrowed, “You chose a bodyguard, not any kind of cleric.” He stated, “That regiment was created with a sole purpose, and that purpose was not at all intellectual.”

 

“I know.” Yongguk responded, pressing the pad of his thumb to his mouth and cleaning the digit of the sweet juice, “I had to choose someone smart, but someone capable of protecting me. I am a young King, and a new King, our Father's supporters are concerned that I will be some kind of easy target. What Kwon has created is not a regiment of soldiers living to protect the city. He has created a weapon, but the youngest Moon boy... He is unlike the rest of them. He has a peaceful heart. I can trust him.”

 

“He can't be much more than a boy.” Himchan said with a frown, his arms folding across his chest, “Too young to take that kind of responsibility.”

 

“Not too many Summers have passed since you or I were boys either, Himchan-ah. He is older than many of the servants you have taken to bed.” Yongguk's tone was firm, eyes knowing and the words caused Himchan to stiffen in his seat. His gaze sharpened and he pressed his lips together as he stood.

 

“Our sister shall be here any moment. I won't disturb you any longer.” Himchan responded simply, already making his way towards the door.

 

“Brother.” Yongguk's voice caused Himchan pause, his head turning just slightly and his eyes lifting in question.

 

“Yes?” He prompted.

 

“How goes your wife? I have not seen her since before our Father's passing.” The King's tone was monotonous, though his eyes were searching.

 

“Well.” Was the Prince's simple response, his spine straightening at the enquiry.

 

“She...” Yongguk found himself hesitating, his brows furrowed as he observed the rigid form of his slender brother, “I would not wish for her to know of your wandering gaze, Himchan-ah.” His eyes were imploring, tone gentle, “You are lucky to have a wife, and not every maid or man-servant in this Palace is silent.”

 

The door was pushed slowly open behind him, and the elegant form of their fair sister entered. Her hair hung heavy around her shoulders while her schooled features surveyed her two younger brothers. Himchan took relief in the distraction and spared her a glance and a greeting smile, “I shall pass on your concern, Yongguk-ah.” He spoke, pressing his lips to their sister's forehead and slipping free from the study before the door could fall closed.

 

The young Prince knew that his presence was required elsewhere in the palace. There were Lords and Ladies whom wished to lay their condolences upon him, but already he felt crushed under the weight of countless apologies.

 

“ _He was a good King. A fair King._ ” They would say, giving him long gazes of shielded sympathy, “ _We are sorry for his death. He shall ascend to Noeul's plain._ ” The words rolled round and round in his skull, clanging against bone, leaving his ears ringing. The nation mourned their King, but he was mourning his father.

 

Himchan had known from a young age that he could have been brushed aside and covered up. The King, could have given Hwayah gold to buy her silence and sent her into the mountains to raise her son in seclusion but instead he proudly celebrated the birth of his third child, and his illegitimacy was of little consequence in the Palace. Yongguk and Himchan had been raised alongside Yejin as siblings.

 

In the wake of his death, Himchan had little patience for polite condolence and instead of turning towards his duty, he fled into the bowels of the palace. It was here that he felt most at home, crushed between meandering soldiers and contemplative Generals as he wound his way between rooms of strategic maps and the gravel training grounds littered between. Although he was by his birth right a Prince, from an early age he had found solace in the art war. He had been called gifted by Generals when he was still a child for his aptitude for strategy and his artistry of movement.

 

While Yongguk had spent long days studying, Himchan had lived most of his youth with a sword in hand to develop a prowess in weaponry and soon his talents far surpassed those of his elder brother. It had been made clear to them by their father that while Yongguk would ascend the throne as ruler, Himchan was destined to become General, the perfect position to compliment his brother's power.

 

Now as men, Yongguk's comforts were retained between pages of books and confined within the walls of his endless libraries, while Himchan's own resided upon the battlefield.

 

Two guards bustled by, both bowing their heads low to Himchan as they passed, and the Prince nodded to them in response as he turned down a winding corridor, deeper into the depths of the palace complex. This route steered him away from the offices and towards where the building was pressed flush against the city limits. He felt as though the weight of the world was crushing his chest and all he wanted was to breathe the fresh air from the privacy of the walls that curled around the capital like a sleeping snake, where the only people he would meet were silent guards standing tall and stoic in their watch for any sign of danger.

 

The twisting hall was silent other than the echo of his footsteps and before him he could see the corridor opening up into a gravel courtyard and the golden stone stairs that ascended the wall beyond.

 

As he approached, he noticed the faint sound of leather shoes against rough gravel accentuated with panted breaths and it was a surprise for him to hear the sound of life coming from so deep within the Palace. Doors cut into the walls surrounding him, leading to the narrow and dark treasury of weaponry and shields stored during their times of peace, very few had reason to venture this deep into the military wing and most who wished to train their skill with blade would do so on the far more public practice fields that lay behind.

 

The sound of a blade singing through the air sliced through Himchan's thoughts and he pushed forward only to come to a complete halt in the doorway to the small courtyard. The space was crushed between the opening of the building and the grand wall that surrounded them, with three wooden practice dummies stationed tall as faux enemies ready to be attacked. A rack was built against the far side of the yard, carrying an array of sheathed weapons, all rusted and chipped from use and the weather they were ill protected from.

 

Standing in the centre of the courtyard was a boy. No more than twenty, he was donned in black silks with a blade held tightly in his hand as his body moved fluidly through the well practiced routines Himchan had seen many times before. His gaze followed every movement, the push of an arm, the twist of hips and the swinging of a leg as it punctuated the air in a graceful kick. As he turned back to continue his movements, the boy caught sight of Himchan standing in the doorway and he fell still, his arms falling to his sides and his expression void of emotion but the Prince continued to stare. The young soldier could only be described in the language of jewels.

 

The sharp angles of his jaw and cheekbones looked as though they were cut from a vein of rich golden topaz that made his skin glow in the early afternoon light. His lips were two rounded rubies, plump and rich as they covered the row of pearls that made his teeth. His hair was seams of black agate and his eyes two circles of onyx on a bed of alabaster white. The delicate beauty was like the treasures his father kept locked away in cedar boxes, strings of precious diamonds Himchan had never been allowed to touch.

 

“Have you come here to train, soldier?” Himchan voiced, breaking the silence between them. The diamond boy's ruby lips spread into the faintest hint of a smile as he bowed his head low to the man before him.

 

“Yes, my lord.” His voice was clear but it was soft with a gentleness that lingered on his tone as he stood with a straight spine. A warm breeze filtered between them, lifting the strands of black hair that had fallen from their restraints across his forehead, “I stumbled upon this practice ground. I apologise, My Lord, if I have stepped beyond a boundary.”

 

The Prince stepped into the courtyard and towards the rack of weapons that resided against the wall. His hand curved around the hilt and he pulled the blade free, watching the sun glint off the dull metal as he extended it before him. The soldier turned his head and watched as Himchan pressed the back of his hand to the base of his own spine, taking position before him. An offer to duel. “You are confidant to explore the palace alone?” He asked.

 

A low hiss rocked between them as their blades nudged one another in a simple greeting before the soldier stepped forward, but his blade was easily knocked aside, “If I were intimidated by the Palace and those it housed, my Lord, I would be ill fit for my position.”

 

Himchan lunged forward and their blades hit one another with a clash of metal on metal, but before the Prince could follow through, the young soldier side stepped him and feinted in another attack. He was good, well practiced and as he turned around and swept low, Himchan had to leap aside to dodge him.

 

Feet shuffled over the gravel ground as the stood with the practice dummy between them, before Himchan once again lunged in attack and their blades crashed together in a building rhythm. The soldier stepped back and parried, only to flick his wrist and easily knock aside Himchan's press forward. It had been many years since Himchan was given the chance to duel opposite someone who's talents rivalled his own and it was a thrill he had truly missed.

 

The sun beat down upon them and Himchan was thrumming with adrenaline as each calculated movement was accentuated with the sound of their fight and perspiration was slicking his skin then quickly absorbed by the fabric of his silken robes. He swung his weapon high, the soldier blocked it. Lunge, parry, withdraw. The prince was starting to notice the panted breaths of his ruby-lipped opponent as beads of sweat appeared on his face, refracting the light as though each were a precious jewel upon skin.

 

Himchan didn't notice his distraction until the soldier took advantage of it. He stepped forward and with a swift flick of his wrist and advance, Himchan was stumbling back and landing on his rear with a soft grunt “ _Oof!_ ” He said, dropping his weapon as he gazed up at his opponent.

 

Metal clattered across gravel and the soldier smiled, watching as Himchan began to chuckle. Slowly, he sat himself up and took the hand offered to him, allowing the younger to haul him up to his feet, “You fought well. I admit I did not expect such skill from a foot soldier.” He dusted his hands on his silk pants, tilting his head to flick his hair from tumbling into his eyes.

 

“My training exceeds that of a regular soldier, My Lord.” The boy responded, his tone even as though he hadn't been out of breath mere moments ago.

 

Himchan tilted his head as he surveyed the diamond boy, “You're the youngest Moon boy. I should have known you are one of Kwon's elite, though your technique is unlike what I have seen of his teachings before.”

 

“Every soldier has their own style, Your Highness.” The boy smiled crookedly, bowing once again, “I am Moon Jongup.”

 

The Prince arched an eyebrow at the change in title, “And you knew you were duelling a Prince?” He asked, arms folding once more across his chest.

 

Jongup leant forward, taking hold of both blades from where they had fallen across the dirt and he carried them to their sheathes, sliding them back into the rack as he glanced over his shoulder, “You do not look too alike your brother, Your Highness, but your likeness to your mother is unparalleled.”

 

Himchan chuckled as he realised Jongup had known who he was since first laying eyes upon him and he shook his head, “Your skill with a blade is exceptional. Though I am surprised of my brother's choice, I am assured of your ability to protect him.”

 

“Surprised of the King's choice, Your Highness?” Jongup's head tilted by the side, revealing the slender plane of his golden throat that shone in the light with his sweat.

 

“I didn't expect him to choose someone so young. Nor so beautiful.” Himchan's words escaped his lips and washed through the breeze over Jongup's skin. The Prince noticed something tense through his muscles, then relax as each letter sunk into his flesh.

 

“General Kwon trained me well, Your Highness. That was the reason His Majesty selected me.” Was Jongup's simple response, his fingers curled at his side.

 

Himchan's head tilted as he surveyed the boy before him, his tongue flicking out to wet his dry lower lip. Somewhere overhead, a cloud passed over the sun and washed them in shadow. Jongup looked up and his onyx eyes gazed into the sky, until they once again landed on the Prince, “Soon I must meet with the King.” He said simply, bowing once again low to Himchan.

 

“We shall meet again soon, I am sure, Jongup-ssi.” Was the man's response. The diamond boy merely smiled to him as he stepped away into the dim light of the corridor.

 

*

 

Jongup washed the duel from his skin while he sat in a deep bronze tub. The water was warm and steaming around him as it settled his muscles and cleansed his tanned skin of the dirt and sweat that had clung to his body. Once clean, he took the opportunity to arrange his possessions around his small room, packing his clothing within the chest, and arranging his horses upon the desk in neat formation. He lifted one, feeling the weight of it as his thumb gently rubbed over it's flank and brushed away any dust that lingered there. It was heavy and sturdy, a solid chunk of clay that fit perfectly in the palm of his hand.

 

From the doorway, a throat cleared and Jongup lifted his head, “Sir.” A servant stood there in the opening, his simple brown robes neat, his hands clasped behind his back, “The King has summoned you.”

 

The tips of Jongup's hair were still wet as he was lead through the twisting corridors of the King's private wing, past wide courtyards that sung with the music of flowing water, and between vast libraries that held more books than Jongup had ever seen before. At last, he was left standing in the open doorway of a study. The broad desk stood beneath a window, with Yongguk sitting behind it in an armchair that curved around his body and held him close to the stacks of parchment spread across the wood before him. On the floor in the centre of the room were the shards of a broken clay cup scattered across the tile floors with drops of un-drunk tea dotted between them.

 

“Your Majesty.” Jongup greeted, dropping down to his knees on the floor. Both palms pressed flat to the stone as he pressed his forehead between them, greeting his King with the upmost respect.

 

“Get up, Jongup-ah. There's no need for such formalities.” Yongguk's voice was tired, his hand lifting to rub at his brow. The young soldier saw the way lines creased across his forehead as though he had aged since Jongup had seen him little more than a day prior. In silence, he pushed himself to stand straight once more, carefully avoiding setting his shoed feet on the fragments of sharp clay dotted around him, “I apologise for that...”

 

“Would you like me to clean it up, Your Majesty?” Jongup asked, stepping from between the shards but Yongguk was shaking his head, waving the offer off with a single hand.

 

“No. I shall have it cleaned.” The King responded, glancing with distaste to the cup upon the floor, “I have just met with my elder sister, the Princess Yejin. You have not met her yet, I assume?”

 

Jongup shook his head no, “I have never had the honour of meeting her, Your Majesty, but I have heard she is very beautiful.”

 

The young King's lips quirked into a small smile, his gaze dropping to his desk, “She is. As long as I can remember... There have been many Lords and Princes from foreign lands asking.. _Begging_ for her hand in marriage but my father always kept her unwed. He never took an offer because he said when he died and I became King, having her unwed would be a great asset to me. I could use her hand in marriage to buy some valuable allies across the peninsula.” A hand lifted and rubbed slowly at his forehead, his eyes closing.

 

Jongup remained silent as he watched the way Yongguk looked seemingly defeated. His brow was furrowed and his skin pale, and Jongup did not believe he had slept in what appeared to be days. His robes were ruffled, and his hair falling from the leather restraints haphazardly tied in a messy knot at his nape.

 

“Today my sister asked for my permission to marry.” Yongguk continued, his hands pulling from his face, “She asked for my blessing to be wed to a man she claims she has loved, and whom has loved her for three summers. A love she has been afraid to expose in fear of what my father would have done to smother it. The Lord to whom which she wishes to be married is a man who's family has supported the crown for generations, and there is no benefit to come of their marriage.”

 

“Did you offer them your blessing, Your Majesty?” Something in Jongup's tone was understanding, and Yongguk's lips quirked into a sad smile.

 

“I love my sister, Jongup-ah. Her happiness is imperative to mine.” He said, glancing down to the cup that lay smashed upon the stone floor, “Of course I gave her my blessing, and yet I fear it was foolish of me to throw away such an important tool in my ruling of the peninsula. My father's advisors will think me naïve.” His gaze lifted and their eyes met.

 

“To the Kingdom, Your Majesty, your sister's hand in marriage is nothing but a tool.” Jongup voiced, his brow furrowed in thought, “But to her, everything is in your hands. Her safety, her joy, her life.. Even if you wished her marriage to be one that benefited the Peninsula, you can be assured that every night she will take rest in the arms of a man who will love and protect her. Although less loving men will cast your decision aside as naïveté, this was not a decision you made with little thought of consequence, Your Majesty. This was a decision born from your love for her.”

 

“Maybe love is not something a King should be distracted by.” Yongguk replied, but Jongup shook his head.

 

“No, Your Majesty.” He said, “If you do not know _love,_ then there will be no compassion for the suffering of your subjects, nor will there be thought or hesitation before the declaration of war. Without it there is no kindness, nor sensitivity, and your subjects will not see you as fair or benevolent, but instead as a tyrant. To be a great King, is to know love.”

 

Yongguk was silent for a long moment as he allowed Jongup's words to brush over him. The corner of his lips was dragged upwards into the crooked hint of a smile, “Either you are wise for your age, Jongup-ah, or you know far more than I about love.”

 

“While my father taught me of weaponry and battle, Your Majesty, my mother taught me of the value of love.” Was his reply, his fingers curling together.

 

“The love of a mother is the purest of all. You have been blessed to feel its warmth.” Something in Jongup's chest cracked at the sight of Yongguk's sad smile as it dragged at his mouth but before he was able to respond, the door behind him was opening and the kitchen boy, Daehyun, was entering. Jongup watched the way tension melted from Yongguk's shoulders at the sight of the younger man, who crossed in silence to stand beside the King. “I shall summon you in the morning, Jongup-ah.” Yongguk said, his face relaxing somewhat as he pushed himself to stand, “Tomorrow I am coronated, and tomorrow your duties shall begin.”

 

“Until sunrise, Your Majesty.” Jongup bowed his head low and Yongguk smiled.

 

“Until sunrise.” He replied.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't think there are any names to define here! I named the servant boy Minjong inconsequentially, the name doesn't mean anything that I know of.  
> Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed the chapter xo


	3. Chapter 3

When Dawn broke on the third day of mourning, the horses began to arrive. As the first hint of light blossomed like a spring flower in the sky, the guards atop Huingol's broad and sturdy walls noticed the first processions appearing upon the horizon. They emerged from the Valley's forests, with Lords and Ladies sat astride their backs, coming from far and wide across the peninsula to pay their respects to the dead King, and to pledge allegiance to his heir.

 

Curious citizens of the golden capital slipped from their homes to watch as the mournful processions stepped through the large open gate and into the city towards the palace. The coronation and subsequent festivities would take place the following day and Huingol was in a flurry of preparation for the sheer number of guests arriving through the mountain pass that even through summer was dusted with snow.

 

Yongguk stood atop the city walls, his arms folded over his broad chest. He had been roused from bed not long before and called to witness the emergence of his visitors. Jet black hair hung un-bound at his shoulders, and the deep blue robe he wore hung heavy off his slim and unwashed body.

 

“Good morning, Your Majesty.” Daehyun voiced as he stepped upon the wall behind his King. In his hands he carried a bronze tray of neatly arranged food, the breakfast Hwayah had ordered for him even though he still claimed to be lacking an appetite.

 

The young King turned his head and glanced back at the kitchen boy, his brows furrowed at the sight of the food until his focus was returned to the gathering of people beneath the city walls. Servants and guards were building tents of heavy cloth on the plain that spread out between the palace and surrounding forest to house the visitors during their stay within the valley. The early morning breeze was already warm as it brushed over Daehyun's naked arms in promise of another hot day and he watched the King survey those below.

 

“They came quickly.” He commented and Yongguk nodded. He leant forward, his elbows resting upon the walls. With a tilt of his head, he guided his hair from his eyes and watched as more appeared from where the green grass dipped down into the trees.

 

“A coronation is a grand event.” He said, lips pursed.

 

“I know. The kitchens are tireless.” Daehyun responded, “They are preparing quite the feast.”

 

Yongguk's head turned and he looked to his old friend, his eyes tired and smile sad, “And you had time to pay me a visit?” He asked.

 

“I always have time to visit my dearest friend.” The cook replied. He glanced to the guards around them and lifted a hand to rest it upon his King's shoulder, squeezing gently.

 

“Today Jongup-ah will take his oath, I will no longer need to instruct you as an assistant.” He smiled at his friend, glancing at the food that was brought for him. The man lifted a piece between his thumb and forefinger, placing it into his mouth and exhaling through his nose as he began to slowly chew. Food had been lacking taste or pleasure over the past days. “It has been unfair of me to pull you from your duties of late.”

 

“I am here to fulfil any role you ask of me, Yongguk-hyung.” Daehyun's tone was gentle, his brows furrowed in concern, “Today holds much for you?”

 

“Other than Jongup's oath, there are other formalities. Meetings, agreements, discussions. It will be endless until the crown is seated upon my head finally.” The King sighed, rubbing at his tensed brow.

 

“The Moon boy is very beautiful. More so than I anticipated.” Daehyun said, his brow arched as he glanced to Yongguk.

 

The elder pulled his hand from where it brushed across his face, an eyebrow arching and lips curving in amusement, “And what exactly are you insinuating?”

 

“I know you have little interest in engaging with your servants.” Daehyun said with a toothy grin and shake of his head, though the amusement drooped slowly into concern, “But your brother...”

 

“Himchan has his own servants to bed.” The King waved off the suggestion with one hand, “He is a fool, but he would not likely be so careless.”

 

The cook hesitated at the sure tone of Yongguk's voice and he frowned. Both men turned as the guards called out, signalling the sighting of another procession emerging from the trees to add to the ever growing camp at the base of the walls. “Is there anything else I may bring for you, Your Majesty?” Daehyun asked as a guard walked by them and the King simply smiled, shaking his head.

 

“No, Daehyun-ah. You have done more than enough for me in the past days.” He said, his eyes softening, “Thank you.”

 

“It is an honour as always to serve you.” Daehyun said, his smile soft, “I understand the loss of a family, Hyung. I only wish to help you survive the pain.”

 

Yongguk's sad eyes met those of his boyhood friend, his brows furrowed with understanding, “Thank you.” The sun was rising higher into the sky, the early morning light bathing them in a gentle warmth already, “I must wash and prepare for the day.”

 

Daehyun bowed his head and took a step back, “Make sure you eat, or Madame Hwayah will have my hide.”

 

A soft snort of amusement was emitted by the King and he glanced back at the younger, taking another bite of the food, “As you pass through the Palace to the Kitchen, Daehyun-ah... Please send for my brother. Our duties begin soon.”

 

“As you wish.” The cook smiled to the elder once again and set off down the stairs and off the wall, leaving behind him his King to survey the Kingdom.

 

*

 

Himchan's eyes closed tightly as the hot heat of a mouth engulfed him. His slender fingers curled into the neatly tied black hair that was sunk down beneath his thighs and his spine arched up from the mattress it was placed against. His undone robes surrounded him as he submitted himself to the sinful heat of the servant boy's mouth. The young prince emitted a low growl of pleasure and began to gently card his fingers through the soft strands gripped so tightly in his hand.

 

“Yes... Good...” He groaned out through clenched teeth, his mind feeling fuzzy and blank as more pleasure coursed through him. It was an electricity that started in his very centre, where the servant boy's soft lips were wrapped around him, and it spread through every inch of him, relaxing muscles and calming his mind as his mouth went dry.

 

The Prince had little care for the approaching footsteps as dawn broke behind his eyes and he was bathed in the warmth of orgasm, “Good...” He hummed again, grunting low as he listened to his partner for that morning drink him down, before withdrawing from his body to pant. Himchan's lips curved into a smirk and his heavy lidded eyes watched the way Minjong blinked lazily up at him with swollen lips and red flushed cheeks, “Your mouth is talented. Maybe the King wastes your true skills by having you live as a servant.”

 

The boy smiled and pulled himself back, “Thank you, Your Highness.” Something in the Prince's face fell at the title and he was reminded of how different things were to become. He had gone from being the youngest Prince, talented with blade and strategy, who would make witty remarks in court and receive a simple glare from his doting father, but now he was the brother of the King, and so little would be the same for it.

 

“Your Highness?” Minjong's voice sliced his thoughts and his focus returned to the uncertain expression on the delicate face before him. The servant boy was fair and beautiful but he was not a diamond.

 

The door to the chamber was pushed open and Daehyun stood at the entrance, his brows raised as he looked to the servant boy kneeling between the Prince's parted thighs, but Himchan ignored him, “I am fine, my sweet.” He said, his hand brushing against the warmth of a flushed cheek, then his thumb smoothing over his still wet red lips, “Return to your mistress now. She shall have tasks for you, I am sure.”

 

Daehyun's arms folded across his chest, his lips pursed as the boy stood to his feet and straightened the simple robes that made up his uniform. In silence, he slipped from the room and down the hallway, leaving a disgruntled Himchan to stand and tie his robe, “Am I able to live without interruption or must you or my brother always intrude.”

 

“The King sent me to find you.” Daehyun responded, stepping in to the room and closing the heavy wooden door in his wake.

 

“Well you have now found me.” Himchan responded with a quirked brow, pursing his lips. He reached for a leather strap and tied his hair messily at the back of his skull, his arms then reaching towards the roof as he stretched his aching muscles.

 

“He has called upon you. There will be a gathering soon.” The cook did not move from where he stood by the doorway, “You, the King, some Generals. There are important decisions to be made today.”

 

“Yongguk is King. He has important decisions to make every day.” Himchan's head turned and he glanced to the younger man over his shoulder. The two men had known one another for many years, and Himchan was aware that Daehyun had not said all he wished to voice. The Prince quirked an eyebrow, urging him to continue.

 

Their gazes met and held for a long time and then, “Minjong is not your servant boy.” Daehyun said.

 

“He is a servant boy of the Palace.” Himchan responded. The Prince crossed the room and busied himself with shuffling papers that sat upon the small writing desk beneath the window.

 

“And a servant boy of the Palace is a servant boy of the King's.” The cook would not falter and Himchan exhaled sharply, turning again.

 

“I will be at my brother's study within the hour, Daehyun. You may return to your kitchen.” He said with brows furrowed and lips downturned.

 

The young cook bowed his head and shielded his gaze, “As you wish, Your Highness.”

 

When left alone, Himchan called for water to be brought for his bath and he continued his morning in silent ease. Bathed, and dressed the young Prince fixed his unkept hair and gazed upon his reflection. He could not use the excuse of mourning or loss any longer, he now had to take on the role he was born to fill.

 

The halls bustled with movement as the Palace prepared for the regality of the forthcoming coronation and Himchan was thankful to make it through the crowds of servants and courtsmen with ease of passage. He entered the King's chosen study without a knock and allowed the door to fall closed behind him.

 

Yongguk was seated in a deep red robe, his hair tied half atop his head, secured with a gold band and pin. His face was cleanly shaven and his brows creased in concentration as he read over the parchment before him. Himchan was struck by how alike his father he looked and sadness welled within him until Yongguk moved and broke the image.

 

“Himchan-ah...” He greeted, sending his younger brother the hint of a smile.

 

“Brother.” Himchan returned the greeting, his hands clasping together as he surveyed the room around him. It was much wider than many of the other studies throughout the King's private wing, this one instead created for the purpose of gathering Lords. A string of seats were arranged in a circle, with another set behind a desk below an open window that let in the soft music of the trickling stream positioned within the courtyard beyond. It was familiar but it was lacking, as though it had been replicated almost perfectly but missed one key feature one could not place. Both brothers knew exactly what was missed, but neither would voice it. Behind his brother stood the diamond boy in his robes of indigo, hands clasped behind his back as he watched each of Himchan's movements, “Jongup-ah.” He greeted the younger, who bowed his head respectfully.

 

“Good morning, Your Highness.” His voice was quiet, and Himchan recognised that he probably spoke little, instead using his attentive and calculating eyes to understand the room. He wondered if that was a skill taught within the secretive ranks of Kwon's elite, or if it were a natural instinct.

 

Himchan returned his gaze to his brother, “I hear talk in the Palace that the Lords have arrived.”

 

“They came this morning, many at dawn. I have summoned them in to the Palace, there is much we have to discuss this morning in preparation for my Coronation.” Yongguk pushed aside his documents, and straightened his spine.

 

“The halls are filling with decoration. The palace will be grand by tomorrow.” Himchan said, the corner of his lips twitching upwards.

 

“A celebration will do us good, brother.” Yongguk replied. A heavy knock came at the door and the King lifted his head, his palms pressing flat to his desk as he stood, “Enter.”

 

A young servant pushed open the study door and through the entrance stepped a string of tall Lords, dressed exquisitely in expensive silk and all masked with solemn expressions. Himchan noticed Jongup's attentive eyes trace the features of the powerful men, familiarising himself with every arch of nose and curve of jaw. The prince sat himself down to Yongguk's right, while General Kwon was seated to his left and with a glace he saw the smile that twitched at Jongup's lips at the sight of his own father joining the circle.

 

“Welcome.” Yongguk voiced once the men were settled, his dark eyes surveying those who had entered, “I trust you all travelled safely to the Valley.”

 

There was a murmur of voices through the chamber, men exchanging glances to one another until a man, rounded at the girth but with kind eyes lifted his head to speak, “We are pleased to see you well, Your Majesty.” He said. He was a mere ten years the King's senior with his black hair tied into a knot atop his head, while his body was donned in rich emerald robes, “The untimely death of your Father saddens us all, but I am eager to celebrate your ascension to the throne. For many years it has been clear that there would not possibly be a better choice.”

 

“Thank you, Lord Kil.” Yongguk said, his gaze softening as he looked upon the man to whom his sister would be wed. The kindness in his gaze, and the even patience in his tone, reminded the King he would not wish for a better man to hold his sister's heart and such warmth was clear upon his expression, “I too am eager for celebration, I am overjoyed by the union between you and the Princess Yejin.”

 

The Prince's expression remained steady as he allowed his informal announcement of the marriage to wash through the room. Brows furrowed and mouths opened, Himchan presumed many a man in this room wished for the Princess's hand for their sons, or themselves. Lord Kil smiled and nodded his head as he settled back within his chair, “I have been blessed with her love and beauty, Your Majesty. I am honoured that my love for her was deemed worthy by you.”

 

“The honour is mine.” Yongguk bowed his head respectfully and lifted his hands. The King's slender fingers curled together and he looked once more around the room, “I have called you here for a purpose on this morning. First, I wish to present to you my assistant and bodyguard, Moon Jongup.” Yongguk's right hand lifted and Jongup stepped forward, his spine straight and expression guarded. His onyx eyes flicked around the room until they met those of his aging father and the General's lips spread into a smile of pride and honour, “He took his oath this morning. He has promised his blood and life to serving me. He shall accompany me as a shadow in all of my duties, he shall be privy to all of which I know.”

 

The declaration from the King had Himchan pause, his head turning to watch as the diamond boy bowed to the room before him. He had sworn his blood to the King, and Himchan felt something in his stomach twist at the idea that someone so soft, so beautiful would so readily promise to die. With a tensed jaw, Himchan's gaze flickered to General Kwon, knowing full well of his ill-concealed ambitious nature and he hoped the man would never win the opportunity to sink his claws into Jongup's precious skin.

 

“Tomorrow, I am coronated as King. When I take my vows and swear my service to the people, I will name the man whom I have chosen as Master General of my armies, the second most powerful man upon the peninsula.” Yongguk's tone was even, his brows furrowed. The silence that spread between the Lords and Generals was electric with tension as each man awaited in silent hope for it to be their name called upon to rise through the ranks and take charge. Himchan watched the way General Kwon's eyes closed and his hands clasped together, his lips curved into an arrogant smile as he anticipated his elevation, “This is a man I must trust to stand by my side, and thus is the reason why I have chosen my half-brother, the Prince Himchan, as my right-hand.”

 

Kwon's eyes snapped open and his face morphed into one of shock while the Prince stared wide eyed at his elder brother, “Your Majesty-” Kwon said, pushing himself to his feet. Jongup stepped forward to stand close by the King's side as another man, donned in black crossed the room to curve his hand around the enraged General's bicep.

 

“Be calm, brother.” The stranger spoke, his own jaw tense with distaste as he turned his gaze upon the young King who remained calm and collected upon his chair.

 

Voices erupted through the chamber as Lords stood and spoke their thoughts aloud. Those in favour of the choice fought back against the bitter words of childish disappointment as the young Prince lowered his head into his hands and closed his eyes. Himchan could not hear the sound of angered voices over the heavy thud of his heart beating in his ears as the weight of his duty crushed down upon him, breaking his bones. With a twist of his neck, he glanced to his side and noticed Jongup's eyes focused upon him with an unreadable expression and tense shoulders, yet as soon as the prince noticed his gaze, it shifted to instead settle upon his past master.

 

“Silence!” Yongguk bellowed, rising to his feet and lifting both hands high into the air. His brow was creased with distaste, his full lips pursed with anger, “This choice was made long before the death of my father. I will not submit to the ambition, nor the discouragement of others.”

 

Jongup relaxed his stance as the men once more began to take their seats, though he did not pull his gaze from where it lingered upon General Kwon's disdain. The man lifted his hand and rubbed his fingers slowly upon his creased forehead as he turned once more to the young King, “And what of marriage, Your Majesty?” the General asked.

 

The man donned in black straightened in his seat across the room with his palms pressing flat together, “Every King must choose himself a Queen, Your majesty.” He said, with twisting lips.

 

“Marriage, Lord Kwon... I am already married.” Yongguk said, his eyes fluttering in thought as he relaxed back into his seat, “My wife is as beautiful as she is wise. The expanse of her skin makes the wide planes of the midlands, stretching on in it's beauty for miles. Her arms are the mountains, wound around me in her love, her legs are the long, stretching rivers that cross the land. Her hair is the forest, lush and dark while her supple breasts are the wide lakes by which we lay. Her womb is the Valley, and her eyes, bright and radiant are the sun and the moon that illuminate us. Her temper is the storms that roll from the sea to cleanse us, her benevolence is the re-birth of every spring. She is the ocean, she is the mines, she is the sky above our heads. I am married to the peninsula, and to my people.”

 

“The Peninsula will not birth you an heir, Your Majesty.” Lord Kwon grit between his teeth.

 

“My dear Lord Kwon.” General Moon spoke up, shaking his head with a low chuckle of amusement, “His Majesty has yet to be coronated. The creation of an heir is not of immediate importance. There are more vital things that must be addressed before the birth of a child.”

 

“Keep silent, Peasant General. What would the son of a blacksmith know of Royal matters.” Lord Kwon bit back with distaste. Jongup tensed as the insult was lashed upon his father.

 

“Speak carefully, Kwon.” Himchan voiced, his jaw tensing, “A man who earned his rank is of more worth than a man who inherited his.”

 

“Enough.” Yongguk said, his head turning to lay a warning look upon his brother, “You may all return to your camps. I am finished with this congregation.” Slowly, the Lords and Generals made to rise, each one slipping from the room with a low hum of conversation until once more, the room was empty but for the royal brothers and Jongup.

 

Himchan stood slowly and pressed his palms together as he turned to his brother, “When you told me that our Father encouraged you to select someone in particular, I did not anticipate it being me.”

 

“You were the obvious selection.” Yongguk said with a dismissive wave of his hand. He looked tired even though it was only a mere few hours since dawn, “I do not trust anyone like I trust you, little brother.”

 

“Is it true that Yejin will marry Lord Kil?” Himchan asked, his lips downturned into a frown.

 

“Yes.” Yongguk responded. He rose to his feet with Jongup close at his side, “There is elsewhere I must be. We shall meet again later, General Kim.”

 

Himchan's lips quirked upwards at the title and he bowed his head, “Until then, Your Majesty.”

 

*

 

The heat did not relent until nightfall. The thick stone walls of the Palace structures were thankfully shielded from the height of the summer temperatures, and all inside were shielded from the harsh rays of the sun as she sat high in the clear sky. Sunset had been a welcome relief and Himchan was thankful for the cool night breeze as he stepped down an empty corridor in the private wing of the Palace that would soon no longer be his home. As his elder brother was elevated to King, Himchan would take on his position as General, and his chambers would be moved elsewhere in the Palace.

 

The golden stone that made the floor and walls of these long halls were a familiarity that extended far back to his long past youth, when he and his brother and sister would chase one another through the studies and libraries, sharing laughter and joy between them. When they had been older, they would sit together in the courtyards, reading or talking, often with Daehyun joining them. Yongguk and Himchan would laugh as Yejin bickered with Daehyun over inconsequential things, because the southern boy always knew how to rile her up.

 

He longed for those days.

 

A little way down the hall, the young general noticed a door sitting slightly ajar, with warm light spilling out to chase away shadows that lingered in the dark corners. He paused in his movements and glanced inside, his lips parting as he lay eyes upon the diamond boy folding clothes neatly, laying them down upon his mattress. He was wearing a loose garment, not made from silk. It was casual, comfortable, unlike the items that were designed so exquisitely by the palace seamstresses for the royal siblings. This garment was not bought with riches from vendors of the city, this was sewn at home with a loving hand.

 

Jongup lifted his right hand and used it to brush his black hair from his eyes as it hung loose around his shoulders, only half of it tied back and off his face. He had been released from his daily duties once the palace had dispersed after the feast prepared for them by their tireless and talented kitchen, and now it appeared he had resigned himself to an evening in his room.

 

The young soldier lifted his head and fell still, and when his onyx eyes met Himchan's, the prince forgot how to breathe, “General Kim.” The boy said. His gaze was as steady as his voice, and his expression showed no sign of surprise. Himchan wondered if it were possible to shake the boy, or if he were always so collected, “Has His Majesty called me?”

 

“No, Jongup-ah.” Himchan said, slowly stepping closer into the room. He surveyed the small space now that he were inside. It was minimal, with nothing more than the essentials, but his eyes did linger a moment on the regiment of five clay horses sitting in formation upon the desk. The General brushed his fingers over them, a brow quirked with amusement, “Strategic models?” He asked, glancing to the younger, “They make for an odd decoration.”

 

Jongup tensed slightly as the Prince's slender hand brushed over the models sat atop his desk, sucked into a momentary paranoia that some harm would come to one, “They were my father's. I played with them as a boy.” Jongup said, setting down the clothing in his hands, “He gifted them to me when I left his home.”

 

“You are young to be taking on the responsibility you have been handed.” Himchan said, his head turning. The warm candlelight in the room refracted off Jongup's angled face, and his rounded lips parted.

 

“It was an honour to be chosen, General Kim.” He said in simple response.

 

“Are you afraid?” The prince asked. He took a step closer and watched Jongup's eyes blink lazily as he thought through the question posed to him. His feather brows furrowed as he pondered the words, tilting his head as though allowing them to roll through his curious mind in careful consideration.

 

“I am not afraid.” He said finally and lifted his gaze, “Are you?”

 

The young General had not expected such a question, and for a moment he hesitated. He had been born to take an elevated role, and he knew that his father had always wished for him to be a military man. He was skilled and intelligent, and he had more than enough education to be deemed worthy, but to have the title placed upon him was a weight he had not anticipated. With a slow curve of his lips he chuckled, “Somewhat. As a Prince I have been raised to take on my duties.”

 

“It is right to fear.” Jongup said simply, “Even a man of your standing and experience has the right to feel afraid, General Kim.”

 

“Please, Jongup-ah. Do not call me that.” Himchan said with a shake of his head, “I am tired of titles. Refer to me by my name, even a prince can be a Hyung to you.”

 

“As you wish, Himchan-hyung.” Jongup responded, his brows raising as he curiously assessed the man before him. He had not anticipated the visit from a Prince, and now with the man standing tall before him he was intrigued, but he would not pry into the man for information. They descended into a comfortable silence, and Jongup contentedly lifted his folded clothes from his mattress into his arms and carried them to the chest set on the ground below the window. The dark wood housed most of his belongings, the few things he had brought with him.

 

“Do you miss them?” Himchan asked, and Jongup stilled, his head turning. The general's finger traced the arch of the Horse's spine, his brows furrowed in concentration.

 

“Yes.” Jongup replied, closing the chest and watching the elder as he lifted the figure into his palm and brushed his thumb along its side.

 

“Your mother must miss you terribly. As do your brothers, and father I am sure. You are unlike many of the soldiers I have fought with, Jongup-ah, and your family must yearn for your warmth within their home.” Himchan said.

 

The younger stepped carefully towards the prince and came to a stop before him. His hand closed over the small clay horse pressed into the rough palm and gently pulled it free to place it down once again in its safe position upon the table, “I will see them again.” He said.

 

Himchan's eyes followed the movement of Jongup's hand, finding the brush of skin on skin to be unexpectedly soft. His head turned and gaze lifted to meet the two dark ink orbs that gazed so inquisitively at him. With a tender care the prince tipped his head forward and his lips pressed to taste the supple rubies he craved in the warmth of a kiss. It was a soft press of mouth to mouth and Himchan could feel his mind soothing. His hand rose from his side and slipped back into the messily restrained strands of Jongup's agate hair, and his mouth opened to urge forward a tongue eager to taste.

 

The young soldier parted his lips to accept Himchan's searching tongue as he lost himself in the gentle kiss and the hungry prince stepped closer to him, pressing him back to the desk and tilting his head to deepen it further. Jongup tasted like summer citrus and a youth lost. His tongue was unpracticed but every brush of it was self-assured and calculated, and Himchan warmed at the thought that even in affection, Jongup would not be perturbed.

 

The hot pressure of mouth on mouth was broken, and both men parted to breathe, their eyes meeting and lips parted to suck in the much needed oxygen. Jongup gazed at him and his red lips were calling for more, a gift Himchan would never shy from bestowing upon him. They drew back into one another and the prince's hands lifted to cradle Jongup's face between the rounded warmth of his palms as the addictive flavour of the soldier's mouth overwhelmed him, forgetting all in the world other than the summertime taste of Jongup's lips.

 

Heat swelled between them and Himchan leant in to the longing arch of the soldier's spine as it pressed forward in need for more. More to taste, more to touch, and soon a soft hum was rolling from Jongup's chest and seeming to startle him out of his daze. The head between Himchan's palms turned from where their mouths had so intimately met, and they broke apart.

 

“Jongup-ah...” Himchan whispered softly, his eyes remaining closed as he pressed his forehead against the head of hair before him, his nose nudging the delicate curve of his ear. Footsteps echoed along the hallway, and the Prince regretfully withdrew, slipping his hands from the warmth he was learning to crave.

 

The young soldier watched him with apprehension as he began to make towards the door, his limbs feeling slow and heavy at the thought of leaving the diamond boy's side, “I shall see you tomorrow.” He said in goodbye, gaze lingering on Jongup's skin as the warmth of candlelight cast shadows across his face.

 

“Goodnight, Himchan-hyung.” Jongup murmured, watching as the Prince bowed his head and disappeared into the shadows of the hall.

 

*

 

The coronation was grand. Men and woman had come from all across the peninsula to watch the crowning of the King and as they gathered in robes of warm crimson and deep orange, it was like the sunset had been unleashed in the great temple. Jongup watched the golden crown be placed atop Yongguk's head as he knelt before the alter to Noeul, the walls around them painted with intricate detail of their cities history. Soon, the artisans would come forth over the coming days and add this King's coronation to the illustrations of many that already surrounded them.

 

In a thrum of excitement they descended from the grand building and took to their festivities in the wide halls, decorated in warm silks and ribbons, with lanterns tied high up upon the ceiling. The soldier stood with his hands clasped behind his back at his King's right, watching and awaiting any person who came to pay their respects, as others lost themselves in the goblets of drink poured for all.

 

“Your majesty!” Came voices from all around them, Lords, Ladies and Generals alike side stepping the dancers and musicians placed in the centre of the hall to bestow their congratulations upon their new ruler. With small sips from his goblet, the King bowed his head and thanked every person who came forth, wishing each one well in return.

 

Every few moments, Jongup found himself turning his gaze to linger upon the King's brother and new Master General of the peninsula. He was donned in robes of gold and orange, with his hair pinned neatly atop his head with a golden spike embedded deeply with beautiful precious jewels. He remained silently seated comfortably to his brother's right beside a beautiful woman donned in red, though his focus lingered mostly upon the dancers and musicians who had come forth to celebrate. Himchan looked content in his setting, but beneath the rich silks of his robe, Jongup could see the rigid outline of his tensed body and he knew that everything felt out of place. His heart ached for him, and the soldier wished he could smooth the wrinkles from his brow and soothe the gravity of his grief.

 

“I have never before seen a crown fit so well upon a head.” Came a low voice, smooth and sinister. Jongup's gaze flicked across to the curved lips of a slim man, who's silver hair receded back upon his skull. The slender shape of his lithe body was accentuated with muscled arms that seemed out of place upon his physique.

 

“Thank you, Lord Kang.” Yongguk said with an even tone, his hand lowering his goblet to the table before him, “I believed you were not coming to join us in our celebrations.”

 

“I apologise for the uncertainty of my visitation, your Majesty.” The man chuckled, “I cannot stay long in Huingol, I have new a new precious treasure within my compound that I do not wish to leave for long.”

 

The King's brow arched and he tipped his head in a bow, “I thank you for travelling from the south to join our celebrations.”

 

“It is an honour to be considered.” Lord Kang bowed low and retreated back to his seat. Jongup's brows furrowed as he surveyed his gaze around the room, curious in his assessment of those who had gathered. General Kwon was seated beside his brother, a young woman sitting beside the Lord and looking with distaste around her, Generals were laughing amongst themselves while elegant ladies watched the musicians play and gossiped about whatever news was fluttering from mouth to ear through the Palace.

 

A familiar presence took up station beside Jongup and he glanced to see Daehyun. The young cook had his own hands behind his back, his spine straight as he leant in closer to the young soldier, “Have you eaten?” He asked, his brows creased in curiosity.

 

Jongup shook his head, “I shall wait until after the party.” He nodded once, watching as a servant poured yet another glass of drink into the King's goblet.

 

“It is never as much fun to attend these parties as a servant, hm?” Daehyun said with an amused chuckle. Jongup's lips curved into a smile at the words although he disagreed.

 

“I do not mind at all. The hall looks so beautiful, I am thankful to be in here, rather than shut away in my chamber.” He appreciated the beauty and scale of the celebrations, and Daehyun just laughed in response, though he could not deny it. The hall looked as though they were on Noeul's plain themselves, where it was always sunset and everything seemed just shy of magic.

 

As Jongup watched the crowd, he noticed the way Himchan leant in to the woman at his side, whispering words into her ear that caused a laugh to rupture from her throat. Her hand settled upon his forearm and she leant back to respond just as he finished his goblet, beckoning for it to be refilled as he laughed with his beautiful companion.

 

The young soldier turned to the cook with downturned lips and an arched brow, “Who is the woman speaking with General Kim?” He asked.

 

Daehyun pulled his watchful eyes from the King to instead survey the prince and he frowned, glancing to Jongup in surprise, “That is the Lady Jung Eunhye, Jongup-ah. The General's wife.”

 

The soldier nodded his head and his expression remained guarded to capture his surprise. The King stood and with a grand gesture and warm smile, he bid the party goodnight. Jongup and Daehyun followed Yongguk from the hall, and while Himchan watched the diamond boy leave, he did not look back.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay from memory, I don't have any definitions to add here! I really hope you enjoyed the chapter (plus my cheekie little Valley of the Horse King easter egg fit in towards the end ;) lets see how many noticed it)  
> Thank you all so much for reading! xo


	4. Chapter 4

Just as swiftly as they had arrived, the horses disappeared. The elaborate camps were dismantled in morning light and one by one, the valley's visitors returned to their homes, leaving behind the golden capital to recover from its celebrations. Maids and servants alike worked together to pack away the ribbons and lanterns that had decorated the long halls and wide chambers of the palace, placing them in their wooden boxes to be stored for the next time Huingol was thrown into the joy of festivity.

 

Days passed under the sweltering Summer sun, and one morning Jongup stood in his indigo uniform dutifully behind his King. His gaze was focused on the stone wall opposite him, his eyes tracing each line marking where the bricks met, glued together with a cement centuries old. Some of the chunks of golden stone were chipped from age and Jongup began imagining shapes growing between them, his minds eye creating lakes in the dips, rivers along the creases. It looked like a weathered landscape, brutal and relentless in it's dry desert state where the curves of stone made wide dunes, dipping low and stretching on for miles with only the occasional gift of an oasis.

 

Beneath Jongup's robes, his stomach grumbled and he in took a slow breath.

 

Yongguk's gaze lifted from where it had been focused on the words he was scrawling upon parchment, “You're hungry.” he said simply, tipping his head to flick his hair from his eyes.

 

“I am alright, Your Majesty.” the soldier boy assured, shaking his head. Hunger was a suppressible sensation, and he could easily ignore it.

 

“You must eat, Jongup-ah.” Yongguk's lip curved into a slight smile. He shuffled through papers and hummed, surveying a document before him, “Today I have little that must be done. I shall spend most of it in here, then later visit with my sister. There is little point having you follow me, when you have nothing to occupy yourself with.”

 

“My position is to remain by your side, Your Majesty.” Jongup stated, his fingers twining together behind his back.

 

“By my side is frightfully uninteresting.” The King turned his head and set down his brush to relax back in his seat, “Go, have the day to yourself, and I assure you that I will have a guard keep watch upon me in case anything is needed. If you enter the kitchens, Daehyun will prepare you a meal.”

 

Jongup knew when he was being dismissed, and with a low bow, he stepped from the room without argument. In the corridor, he dipped his head to the guard stationed at the entrance to the study, then silently slipped down the hall.

 

Outside, the sun beat down onto the valley, and a cool breeze filtered from the snow-tipped mountains to offer some relief from the growing heat. He had not seen Boyeon since his arrival in the palace, having been too engulfed in his duties to spare time for his beloved animal, but now Jongup wanted to be out there, warming his bronze skin in the sweltering sun as his body pressed close to that of his constant companion. Once again, Jongup's stomach rumbled and he pressed his palm flat against it, knowing that first he needed to visit Daehyun.

 

The kitchens were vast, and it took the young soldier some time to find the familiar southerner between the bustling movements of men and woman around stoves and tables. The long string of rooms sat near the heart of the palace, resulting in warmth from the giant ovens spreading through the palace like blood from a heart to warm each room through formidable winters. Large, wooden structures made up storage shelves and work benches, while clay ovens were built in against the walls and all between radiated the home-like scent of cooking. Even though the coronation feast had passed, the cooks worked tirelessly to feed the hundreds living and working throughout the palace complex.

 

Jongup turned a corner and dodged a bustling cook, finally locating the one person for whom he searched. Daehyun stood crouched over a bench, reading something from a sheet of paper as he mixed ingredients together in a wooden bowl. His right hand reached without looking and pinched up spices, tossing them into the mixture as he focused on his work before him, only turning his head when Jongup spoke.

 

“Daehyun-ssi.” He said in greeting.

 

The southern cook turned his head, one brow arched as his spine immediately straightened, “Has the King called for me?”

 

There was something curious to Jongup about the swift assumption of Yongguk's requirements, and he shook his head, “No.” The soldier stepped forward, his right hand pressed to his flat stomach and a gentle smile curving at his lips, “His Majesty sent me here... He said that if I so asked, I could be fed.”

 

Daehyun's shoulders relaxed and he released a short chuckle, glancing towards the bowl in front of him and nodding his head, “I am practicing a recipe, you may have some when it is cooked. I would never go against Hyung's wishes.”

 

Again, Daehyun was speaking so informally of their ruler and it caused Jongup pause. His lips parted and his words settled upon his tongue, though he would not enquire into the relationship of the cook and his King, it was not his place, “You are not from Huingol.” It was the first time such a truth had been voiced between them, and Daehyun's lips quirked into a smile.

 

“I am not.” He said. His accent was soft, and Jongup imagined it like waves of the ocean, tainting his tongue and smoothing the edges of each word like water corroded sand, though it was clear he had been in Huingol many years, “I am from the south east.”

 

“You are from the sea.” The young soldier's head tilted to the side. Never in his life had he seen the ocean with his own eyes, only having ever heard it described in literature, or from his father when he returned from his campaigns. It seemed magic to him, an endless blue stretching off as far as the eye can see.

 

“I am.” Daehyun responded. With one hand, he cracked an egg into the bowl, using his naked hand to fold the mixture together.

 

“Where are your family?” Jongup's face remained void of expression as he watched Daehyun's shoulders tense, his head turning minutely to assess the soldier over his shoulder.

 

“Dead.” He said simply, “I came to Huingol alone as an illiterate refugee and Madame Kim found me in the stables. I wasn't more than a boy at the time and so she made sure I was safe and cared for. It is thanks to her I have been working in these kitchens.”

 

Jongup glanced down to the messily written recipe sitting dusted with grain and wet with spilled yolk, “You are not illiterate anymore...”

 

Daehyun drizzled oil into the mixture and folded it through once more, his brow furrowed in concentration, “The King taught me to read, the Master General taught me to wield a sword and by their sides, I grew into a man.”

 

“Yet still you work as a kitchen boy?” Jongup tipped his head curiously, “If you can read and write, wield a sword, and if you _know_ the royal brothers... Why has his majesty chosen me to be his assistant, when he could so easily have selected you.”

 

The confusion brought a warm laugh from Daehyun's chest as he turned out the batter upon the bench top, kneading it with flexed muscles and focused eyes, “Because I can be of use to his majesty elsewhere in the Palace. Yongguk-hyung's requirements are not all fulfilled by you, Jongup-ah. In here, I can be his eyes and his ears, and out there, I can be his friend.” The use of the word _friend_ lingered on Jongup's mind. He had noticed how frequently Yongguk called for the cook and wished for privacy, he wondered if friendship was what lingered between them, “One of Kwon's boys will make a far better bodyguard than I, however. My training lacks the discipline that would come as nature to you.”

 

“Discipline comes second to trust, Daehyun-ssi.” Jongup said simply, watching as the cook began to apply the batter on clay plates over the hearth. A red tinge took on the food as it sizzled in rich smelling oil, and Jongup eagerly awaited the burn of such spice upon his tongue.

 

“You may be right, Jongup-ah.” the cook responded, tipping his head to the side as though to stretch his tired muscles. He made no effort to continue their discussion, and the soldier understood that he had reached a wall between what was well known, and what was private.

 

“Do you miss the ocean?” Jongup twisted the subject, guiding their conversation down a different road.

 

“I do.” Cloth was laid upon the bench and soon the delicacy, so intricately made was placed upon it. Daehyun followed by creating another.

 

“What... Is it like?” Jongup watched the way Daehyun hesitated at the question, his gaze lifting from where it was trained upon his well-practiced art.

 

“The Ocean is unlike anything else you could ever see. The sensation of the salt covered sand between your toes is comforting, it retains the heat of the daylight sun and often times if you stroll along it at night, it will still be warm against your skin. It is the waves, however, that show such formidable strength. Some days they will lap at the sand, as if shy, but others they will fold and crash with a strength grand enough to smother your body and drag you down into her endless depths. The Ocean has the strength of a thousand armies and she is as beautiful as she is terrible.” Somewhere between the words, his eyes closed, as though he were allowing his very body to be washed away in the tide of his description, “She is never ending, all-encompassing and unforgiving.”

 

The scent of burning filtered between them, and Daehyun opened his eyes to turn the batter that cooked over the flame, his dark eyes glancing to meet Jongup's. They stood together in silence as the cook slipped the second piece atop the first and carefully folded it within the cloth, handing it out to the young soldier, “I will never love again like I have loved the ocean.”

 

“You will see her again, Daehyun-ssi.” Jongup said as he carefully took the small parcel into his palms.

 

The cook waved off the words with a gesture towards crates stacked upon the shelves residing opposite, “Take some of the fruit with you. It will go rotten if it isn't eaten soon.” Jongup stepped towards the shelves and selected small pieces of the ripened fruit to tie with his meal into a soft bojagi, so to carry them with him on his wanderings to the stables.

 

He made towards the door in a contemplative silence, only to be called back by the uttering of his name, “Jongup-ah.” The soldier turned his head and looked towards his southern friend, “The King is a good man, and a kind man. Serve him well.”

 

With a bow of his head, the soldier accepted the statement and carefully slipped free from the kitchen.

 

*

 

The stables bustled with movement, and Himchan tried to ignore the eyes that lingered upon him. Days before, he would have been able to tend to his horses with little more than a welcoming smile from the stable hands, but now all gazes lingered on the Master General. His palm pressed to the side of the white foal's neck to rub his thumbs just below her jaw and his lips curved into a warm smile as she released an equine snort of pleasure at the touch.

 

She was little more than six months old, and although her legs were strong and her body growing in size, she was still a mere infant when surrounded by the strong bodies of the grown Horses living alongside her in the stable.

 

“Her dam was a pure breed from the North. Her coat was white, and her body stronger than all others.” A man was saying to his right, watching with focused eyes as the Prince's hand curved around the snout of the young foal before him. By the end of summer, she will have grown into a strong filly and he knew she brought promise of a long life.

 

“Her sire?” Himchan asked, tearing his gaze from her long-lashed eyes for a moment to glance at the Lord who was so generously gifting him the young beauty. Although Huingol was the centre of the peninsula and capital of the Kingdom, it was the only place where man and horse took such a strong connection, and to many others this beautiful creature before him would be nothing more than a pet. Within the embrace of the valley, however, a snow white foal was a sacred blessing and a priceless gift.

 

“He was wild, Your Highness.” the Lord said, glancing to the foal once more, “A stallion who lived in the forest, he came in to the pastures to mount her dam. He was fast and lithe, his coat a deep chestnut brown.”

 

The General's palm pressed to the rounded curve of her snout and he chuckled at the low snort the foal emitted, as the subtle curve of his lips spread into something more alike a lopsided grin over his barely crooked teeth, “The child of a strong mare and a fast stallion. Noeul truly has blessed us again.” A hoof stamped down upon turned hay, and Himchan's hand slipped along the side of her neck to instead rub just behind her withers in an attempt to calm her tense muscles. His forehead pressed to her ear and he sucked in the scent of her lilly white coat, “Hush, my beautiful. There is no reason to fret.”

 

“You accept?” The Lord asked, the stretch of his lips exposing his row of yellow teeth in a smile. Himchan laughed again as the foal continued to offer sounds, quite vocal in her appreciation of every brush of fingers Himchan lay upon her.

 

“Of course I accept her.” He said, withdrawing just slightly but as he pulled back, she followed, taking a step until she was pressed up against the stable gates with her head reaching out in search of his touch, “I shall name her Nari, you are kind to gift her to me.” Himchan extended his palm and her nose pressed into it, already taking comfort from his familiarity. The lord stood by as a stable hand approached, “Have her settled into the stall beside Yeona's.”

 

“Your Highness... That stall is occupied. Upon His Majesty's orders.” The stable boy said, causing Himchan to arch a brow in curiosity. Regretfully, he pulled from Nari completely after pressing a gentle kiss to the arch of her nose and made his way down towards the stall he desired for his own prized creature.

 

Standing in the centre was a tall colt with a coat of rich molten caramel, and at his side stood the diamond boy. Jongup's eyes were focused as he tended to the creature before him, his fingers lithe and gentle while working to fasten a modest leather saddle around the animal's girth at a comfortable pressure. Himchan's hands settled upon the gate that stood as a barrier between them, and Jongup's head turned, “General Kim.” He said in greeting, withdrawing from his horse and bowing low. Himchan had not expected the wave of relief that washed over him at the sight of Jongup, having not seen him since the coronation.

 

“Are you going somewhere?” Himchan asked, his head tilting to the side in question. The growing colt turned his head, nudging his nose into Jongup's hair with a loud snort, seemingly displeased with the lack of attention he was suddenly receiving. The young soldier's lips spread into a smile and he wound an arm around the creature.

 

“His Majesty did not wish for company today.” Jongup explained. Something in his smile brought a warmth to Himchan, and he could not help but mirror the expression with one of his own, “I shall venture from the walls, explore the Valley. I have not been with Boyeon in days.”

 

“Is it wise to be riding through the Valley alone?” The elder man asked, but Jongup merely arched a single eyebrow in question.

 

“I have little concern for my safety, Your Highness.” He said, causing the elder man to emit a low chuckle. Of course one with training such as Jongup's would never be in danger through the familiar forests of their Valley home, and yet Himchan did not like the idea of such a diamond leaving the gates alone.

 

The stable hand stepped up behind Himchan, “General Kim? What would you have us do with Nari?”

 

“Settle her into whatever stall is available. I will make sure she is comfortable, and visit her frequently.” the General spoke, pushing himself back from the fence by which he stood, “Have Honggyu saddled for me, I shall be accompanying our young Jongup here out of the city. I hear the lake is beautiful at this time of year.”

 

The young soldier turned his head, his palm brushing against Boyeon's jaw as he slowly brought the bridle across his face and fastened it behind his head. The bridle had no bit to clamp between the colt's row of teeth, instead Jongup guided him with tender words and familiar touches learned well after years of long days spent pressed to one another's sides.

 

Jongup pretended he did not notice the way guards and stable hands alike watched as the prince rode from the stable beside him, instead ensuring his focus to remain upon the animal settled below him, his thighs squeezing tight around his familiar sides to instruct his movement. A guard stood by the open city gate and bowed his head as the pair slipped through in silence and spurred their animals to speed.

 

With a flick of his wrist and nudge of his right leg, Jongup urged Boyeon into a canter down the familiar gravel road leading into the forest that lay along the valley floor. It's trees looked formidable and dark to anyone unfamiliar with the Valley, but Jongup could close his eyes and navigate through with ease as though every boulder and branch were mapped upon the inside of his eyelids. One hand settled upon his thigh, the other twisted through the reins as Boyeon sped with haste between trees, the air whipping through his mane and across Jongup's face, with Himchan and Honggyu hot at their heels.

 

It was a freedom unlike anything else, and both men could feel the weight of duty slip from their shoulders like melting ice in the early Spring sunshine.

 

Through the forest, they passed by a herd of deer, noses buried in wet moss and foliage to suck sweet nectar between their hungry lips, raising their heads in curiosity at the rhythmic thud of hooves meeting the ground. The trees surrounding them teamed with life and the low thrum of cicada song rung in their ears, while their long dormant wings spread to carry them between sloped branches.

 

Himchan dipped his head low against Honggyu's neck, dodging the low hanging leaves and closing his eyes. Not far ahead, the trees began to thin and soon opened up to reveal the curved stone beach and clear blue water of the wide lake, while across the far edge, the silver stone of the tall mountains cascaded into the water, their tall peaks reflecting off the crystal surface.

 

Boyeon stilled to a stop and his tail swished while Jongup swung his legs from his stirrups and landed heavily onto his feet. A palm brushed along Boyeon's neck once more and he turned his head to watch Himchan emerge from the trees behind him. A branch had whipped across his jaw, drawing blood to the skin and the young soldier frowned at the sight.

 

“Himchan-hyung...” He started, just as the elder man dropped to his feet on the stoney beach. Honggyu pulled from his hold and ventured down to drink from the waters edge, while Himchan's fingers gingerly brushed along the slice to his flesh.

 

“A scratch, Jongup-ah.” He said, shaking his head and waving a hand in dismissal. Boyeon turned his head and made yet another sound to gain himself back Jongup's priceless attention, and the young soldier could not wipe the smile from his face. Carefully, he undid the saddle from around the creature's girth, setting it down upon the stones and soon following it with his bridle. Once the caramel colt was naked, he eagerly made his way towards the water, hooves sinking in mud while the cool ripples calmed his skin. Jongup shook his head in amusement and dug his fingers into a saddlebag, withdrawing the small wrapped bojagi and lowing himself down to sit upon the stone beach.

 

Himchan watched as Jongup delicately unwrapped the cloth to reveal carefully transported food, taking a round piece of spiced dough that seemed freshly fried into his palm. With his other hand he gestured to the second piece, turning his head to look up at the General, “Eat, hyung.”

 

“You brought it for yourself, Jongup-ah.” Himchan responded. He seated himself down upon the stones beside the diamond boy, his eyes watching the way he carefully broke off parts of the savoury cake and took them between his teeth.

 

“My mother would never forgive me if she knew I let a Prince go hungry.” The soldier said in response. He curled his fingers into the bojagi and set it gently into Himchan's lap, “I also have a piece of fruit for Honggyu if you wish to treat him.”

 

Dark hair had fallen into Himchan's eyes as he dropped his gaze to the freshly cooked food in his lap. Jongup continued to eat in silence and soon Himchan was joining him. The dough melted upon his tongue and the rich spices burnt his throat, sending the pleasurable thrill of enjoyment through his mouth, “Thank you, but I am not a Prince here. Titles are things for halls and conferences, not for the wilderness. Out here I do not have servants, clerics, attendants.”

 

“And what of wives, Your Highness?” Jongup asked, his gaze focused upon the lake, “Out here do you have one of those?”

 

Himchan hesitated and his head turned, watching the way Jongup's teeth sunk into the savoury cake to drag another bite into the waiting heat of his mouth. His Adam's Apple bobbed as he swallowed, and the prince was mesmerised, “No. Out here, I do not have one of those.”

 

“If only it were so simple to strip ones self of their responsibility whenever they saw fit.” The Prince arched an eyebrow at the statement, but one glance to Jongup told him he did not mean it with sarcasm or bite but rather an honesty.

 

A cicada had landed on the pebbles by Jongup's knee, its wing bent and crumpled, not having enough time to dry after breaking from its juvenile skin. The young soldier sliced into the dough in his palm with the nail of his thumb and severed off a small section in offering to the creature. Spindled legs sunk into the proffered meal and carefully Jongup stroked the pad of his index finger along the crumpled wing. It was still soft and with care not to tear through the delicate membrane, Jongup guided it's veined arch to be straight.

 

The creature emitted a low chirp and twitched in his hold, causing the young soldier to nudge at its abdomen, while Himchan watched with a distasteful purse of his lips, “Why are you touching it?” he asked, his eyes lifting as though another of the oversized bugs were planning to land its self upon his silk robes.

 

The young soldier gently lifted the animal in to his hands and placed it upon a rock, where the sun would warm its newly emerged thorax and wings, “Cicadas live in the ground for seventeen years before they surface fully grown.” He said, his onyx eyes finding the prince, “How awfully disappointing it would be to meet death before it had the chance to fly.”

 

As a slow breeze slipped around them, the insect flexed its wings and spread them wide under the sun's beating rays as if testing the current of the air, “It amazes me that someone with such a peaceful mind lives the brutal life of a soldier.” Himchan admitted.

 

Jongup's gaze remained focused upon the rescued animal and his lips curved upwards into a smile, “How can one expect victory if they only have thirst for violence?” he asked. “Every life matters. If there is no peace within your heart, then you are not fighting to protect anyone, you are instead fighting for the pleasure of inflicting pain on another. That makes a murderer, not a warrior.”

 

Himchan watched Jongup rise once he finished the food in his hand to survey Boyeon and Honggyu wading through the shallow waters of the lake, seemingly assessing one another in their recreation, “If your heart only knows peace, Jongup-ah, it would be hard to fight in war.”

 

Jongup turned his head and looked at the prince, his brows furrowed, “You and I both know that war is not easy. Whether a soldier has blood lust or not, it is never easy.”

 

The General followed him to his feet and tilted his head to the side as he followed his gaze towards their horses, “Boyeon looks young.” He said, a welcome change in topic.

 

“He is four years at the beginning of autumn. He was born late in the season, a surprise to my family.” He smiled as he watched the colt whiney and flick his tail, sending water droplets flying through the air. They spattered the dry rocks with rounded patterns already being soaked in by the sun, and Jongup toed off his shoes.

 

The sun was hot, and their hands were slicked with oil from the dough they had eaten, so as Jongup began the slow removal of his clothing, Himchan did not hesitate in following. His fingers began by working at the knot of his belt, undoing it and laying it carefully down upon Boyeon's discarded saddle as it sat beside him. Beads of sweat were appearing upon his brow, and he followed his belt with his robe, then his own shoes.

 

Gold trimmed silk was folded neatly and placed beside the indigo blue of a soldier's uniform, and Himchan turned his head to watch Jongup as white linen undergarments slipped from his topaz skin to leave the soldier naked. The final clothing was discarded, and Himchan watched as the diamond boy stepped into the water with a single gaze cast back.

 

The stones were smooth below Himchan's feet from an age of being lapped at by the gentle lake, but soon they gave way to an expanse of soft sand that curled between his toes and gave way under his weight. Ahead of him, Jongup reached his arms before him and dove into the clear blue water, surfacing again in a spectacle of refracted light. He turned his heavy head of wet hair, and his ruby lips were parted into the spectacular spread of a smile, “The water is beautiful, Hyung!” He called as he beckoned the prince to dive after him.

 

Himchan did not believe he could find anything else beautiful when Jongup stood like the sunrise before him.

 

Without a word, however, he dove into the water. It was cool and clean as it cleansed his body of perspiration, reviving him to his core. The surface split above him, and his head broke through into the air as he threw it back to toss aside the strands of his black hair while fingers lifted to wipe water from his vision. The pad of his thumb nudged at the break in his flesh and he winced with a hiss, pulling his hand away and checking for blood against his palm.

 

“You shouldn't touch it...” Jongup's voice was gentle as he stepped over the sandy floor of the lake to his side with only the lapping water to conceal his nudity. With the warmth of a hand, the soldier guided Himchan's head to turn, and he dipped to survey the wound, seeing where a rogue twig had slashed at his skin.

 

Small droplets of water hung heavy in Jongup's lashes, and Himchan stared mesmerised as they rolled down over his cheeks like tears every time he blinked. The pad of Jongup's thumb smeared away a droplet of blood, while his other hand pressed to the side of the Prince's neck.

 

“Will I die?” Himchan asked in an amused tone, glancing down to see Jongup's gentle smile.

 

“If you are lucky, you will only lose a leg.” He responded. The warmth of Himchan's palm found his hip just below the water and it smoothed with tenderness over his flesh to draw his naked body closer.

 

“What a cruel and unjust world in which we live.” Th prince murmured the words, with his nose brushing against the sharp angle of Jongup's right cheekbone. The soldier's head turned and he looked up at the General, not attempting to withdraw his hands from where they were pressed against his warm skin and soon their mouths met.

 

The kiss began as feather light brushes of lips on lips, but soon as Himchan's hand lifted to cradle the back of Jongup's skull, it was deepening into something that held an intention far less than innocent. The soldier stepped forward, his chest pressing against that of the Prince before him as his head tilted and mouth opened to accept the eager press of a tongue searching to taste the mouth he had only sampled once before. Something Himchan had craved tirelessly since that moment.

 

Neither of the men paid any mind to their horses as the creatures abandoned their water play to instead graze upon the grass that grew green between the trees at the edge of the forest. Instead, they stood drowning in one another's skin.

 

Jongup pulled from the kiss with panted breaths, and his eyes fell closed as Himchan's mouth instead chose to glide slowly along the sharp line of his jaw, and explore the expanse of his topaz neck. The soldier's hand gripped Himchan's shoulder, and the prince watched in fascination as Jongup's Adam's Apple bobbed when he swallowed a sound of pleasure that threatened to emerge. The elder man's tongue traced the line of his throat, while his teeth scraped a sensitive place just behind the corner of his jaw, pleased with himself when Jongup pushed himself to be closer against the elder man's bare body.

 

“Beautiful...” The prince murmured with little thought of what it was he voiced, his gaze tracing each line and contour of bronze skin, all lithe muscle and strong bone. He pulled back and looked over the soldier with a hunger burning in his eyes, and that alone had Jongup stepping forward once more.

 

His palm rose from where it had been gripping the curve of Himchan's shoulder to instead cup his cheek, while the other tangled back into the mess of black hair, knotted and wet from the lake around them and he drew the prince into yet another crushing kiss that brought forth a low moan of appreciation. It was hot and wet, spurred on by ill practiced haste and encouraged by a yearning deep seeded within Jongup that the soldier had not even realised was eating away at his very core. He knew that the prince was a married man, but in a selfishness that was unknown to him, he could not stop himself from taking what he had been longing for since it had been first offered to him in his bed chamber days before.

 

Himchan could feel himself submitting to the press of the diamond boy's tongue, all while his own wandering hands searched for purchase on the skin slicked by water that he wished to map and learn as well as he knew his own. Panted breaths mingled, but neither man wished to draw back for air, until the press of an erection against the prince's thigh could no longer go unnoticed.

 

Reluctantly, Jongup withdrew his head and licked at his kiss-swollen lips. His mind raced to form some kind of badly strung together tangle of words to break the silence between them, but where Jongup lacked in articulacy of language, Himchan made up with eloquence of body. The prince's palm curved around Jongup's and pulled it from his face to instead guide him slowly towards the beach, their naked feet leaving wet footprints over smooth stones in their wake. With silence encasing them, the prince reached for their discarded clothing to spread across the ground and lead Jongup's dripping body to lay upon them.

 

Himchan's mouth was caught in the gravitational pull that drew him again and again to Jongup's skin, and soon the secluded beach around them was filled only with the rhythmic pace of gasped breaths as muscle and bone pressed together to create such intricate friction. The prince was transfixed with every exquisite slope and line of Jongup's body, his gaze fascinated by the shape of strong muscle quivering under his fingers as they traced each angle and mapped between every mole and scar.

 

He raised his eyes and noticed that Jongup watched him with heavy lidded eyes and parted lips with his slender fingers creeping into the general's drying hair to grasp at him in need as the mouth trailed lower and lower. Himchan's palms spread strong thighs and his mouth met again with a sweltering heat that drew forth an electric twitch in Jongup's body and he felt pride rise within him as the gentle gasps grew into something of far more substance. He licked over Jongup's most intimate curves and relished in the knowledge that the diamond boy was coming apart beneath him, arching his strong spine as a single digit penetrated his body in eager preparation of the pleasures to come.

 

The fingers tightened their hold as the digit curled and Himchan licked into him with ernest, beguiled by the music of a voice he had not known the pleasure of for more than a few days. A gasp of his name and Himchan was keening in to every rock of hips and twist of muscle, nudging a second digit alongside the first, following with a third not too long after. His impatience to be one with the boy was overwhelming him.

 

Another gasp of his name fluttered between them like an autumn leaf caught in the wind, and every letter warmed over Himchan's skin, “Soon...” He hummed, his breath hot and laboured as it fanned out over a sensitive thigh. The muscle twitched and skin shuddered, and Himchan could take no more. He withdrew the fingers with tender care and lay his body, still slick from the lake over his diamond companion. Jongup's right leg lifted and curved around his middle as his fingers slid along Himchan's back, feeling his fair skin warm under the sun's rays and with a careful rock of hips forward, they came together.

 

Nails dug into skin and bodies moved together as Jongup's head lifted to drag his prince into yet another crushing kiss. He tasted himself, and the lake on Himchan's tongue but did not dare withdraw from him, not as he felt his head light and intoxicated by the flames of pleasure that lapped at his very soul with every rock of Himchan's hips. Nails scored along Himchan's spine and sunk again into his hair as the pace lifted and the sound of skin on skin overwhelmed the air. Both could feel the burn rise inside of them, and soon the kiss was broken so that Himchan's teeth and tongue could mark their ownership on skin that did not belong to him, but that he wished to cherish until the sun fell from the sky, and the world was overrun in darkness.

 

A sound not dissimilar to a growl rumbled from the general's chest as his lover's body contracted around him, and he watched Jongup's face contort under the weight of his pleasure, and paint his skin with his release. Soon after, he gasps and shudders and comes undone, spilling his seed inside of his diamond boy with a hoarse shout of his name.

 

They both went limp, forgetting the world that surrounded them, and the sun that threatened to slip behind the mountains in its exhaustion from the day. Himchan withdrew from Jongup and rolled onto his back. Only half of his body fit upon the makeshift blanket they had settled upon, but even as the rounded curve of pebbles dug into his shoulder, he did not mind. His eyes closed and he focused on regaining the breath Jongup had taken from him, his damp skin warming under the teasing rays of the afternoon sun.

 

Jongup moved beside him, but he was not disturbed, not as his mind fluttered to the warmth of a palm against his stomach, then lips to his clavicle. Only when the presence of the younger vanished from his side did he open his eyes, watching as the soldier stepped naked and spent along the beach to sink his body once more into the depths of the lake. Himchan tucked one arm beneath his head as Jongup's hands smoothed over his skin to wash away the impurity of their sin.

 

Sunset cast a golden light over the lake, enveloping Jongup in its glow and Himchan could not bare to drag his eyes away from the serenity. From behind him, Boyeon caught sight of his treasured companion, and made his own way down the beach to return to the water. Jongup smiled where he stood as he was joined by the caramel colt, who's head dipped to nudge tenderly to his shoulder, urging the soldier to wind his arms around the beast's neck and hold on to him. His mouth was moving as though he were speaking to the creature, but they were too far away for Himchan to hear the words.

 

He noticed then how calm it was he felt. Every ounce of stress or anxiety had fallen away from him when they had left the city far behind, and he had so easily lost himself in the calm of Jongup's company. Never before had a person brought this tranquility to his heart, even as he searched so longingly through the ranks of maids and servant boys within the palace walls, desperate to find someone with whom he could truly relax.

 

In that moment, Himchan had forgotten the world, and all his loss, anxiety and pain was replaced with the divinity of Jongup.

 

Pebbles behind him gave way under the weight of familiar hooves, and Himchan smiled when Honggyu dipped his head down to nudge at him, always curious and questioning. His hand curled around the familiar nose and he pressed a kiss to a rounded cheek then sat himself up.

 

“Jongup-ah!” He called, watching as the diamond boy's head turned and his onyx eyes gazed to him. He beckoned with one hand and watched the naked boy return to his side. Words were lost once again as the prince dipped his head, drawing Jongup once more into the warmth of a kiss, “The sun will go soon.” He murmured against the ruby mouth.

 

Jongup smiled and brushed his left palm across Himchan's injured jaw, “Himchan-hyung...” he murmured. His right hand slipped down the general's arm and their fingers twined together, “Not yet... I wish to stay just a little while longer...”

 

A gentle tug on his hand towards the water drew Himchan forward and he did not hesitate in following. He turned his head as his toes met with the water and cast his gaze back to the boulder by which they had lay. The cicada had gone.

 

When they returned to Huingol, the sun was little more than a red glow upon the horizon. The gates opened wide to allow them through and hooves echoed as they met the paved stone of the city street. Neither noticed their King watching from the wall.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeeee we're making progress! I do have a handful of definitions here. One is Korean: Bojagi. It is an art of wrapping cloth to make a makeshift satchel, similar to the Japanese Furoshiki. Nowadays Bojagi are often used for gift wrappings, but in the past it could have been used for just about anything.
> 
> The other definitions I have are just a handful of equestrian words:  
> Colt - a young male horse, older than one year, less than four years. A male horse older than four is a Stallion.  
> Filly - a young female horse, older than one year, less than four years. A female horse older than four is a Mare.  
> Dam - the mother of a horse.  
> Sire - the father of a horse.
> 
> Just in case anyone was left a little confuzzled! Much love to everyone, as always, thank you SO much for reading!


	5. Chapter 5

Swallows flew into open skies, leaving the golden city far behind. The breeze was pleasantly cool, the clouds soft and white as they rose like a castle above the mountains, dwarfing the valley in their grandeur. Himchan prayed they would bring with them the promise of rain, and offer a break in the relentless heat that weighed down upon Huingol.

 

He stood in the centre of his bedchamber, tying the front of his dress robes with nimble fingers as he awaited the presence of an attendant to tend to the mess of his hair that hung around his shoulders. The height of summer was upon them, and finally the city was breaking free of its mourning, to instead settle into the joy of festival. At midsummer every year, Generals would assemble their groups, and together they would all join in the merriment of military games for the entertainment of Huingol's many citizens. It came as a showcase of talents, but also an opportunity for the city folk to escape the heat and instead take refuge at the hottest time of day.

 

This was the first time the King would appear to those living in the city, other than during his coronation its self, and it was imperative for the day to go smoothly.

 

A knock came at the door and the young prince lifted his head, “Enter.” He called. The door was pushed open and the lithe form of his elegant mother stepped over the threshold, dressed in silks of red. Since the death of his father, he had not seen her donned in anything but black and the sight of her ageless beauty warmed in her crimson hanbok had his heart aching for her, “Mother...”

 

“Himchan-ah.” Hwayah said, her brows creased as she looked upon him. Quietly, she stepped across the room and surveyed the robes he wore, “Are you not yet ready?”

 

“No, mother.” He responded, voice soft as he surveyed her expression. She looked older, with fresh wrinkles indenting by her eyes and around her mouth from the frown that lingered permanently upon her face. “I called for a maid to come and fix my hair.”

 

“I know you called.” She responded, palm to his cheek then withdrawing. She pulled back a chair and beckoned for him to be seated before the array of pins and ties that lay upon his small dressing table, “quite a number of my maids and attendant boys were eager to come and offer whatever it was you required their help with. I deemed it inappropriate.”

 

“Inappropriate that they wished to fulfil their positions?” He watched her reflection as her fingers curled around the bone handle of a fine-toothed comb.

 

“Inappropriate that all have been called to you enough times for a different purpose that it is what they expect when you require their attention.” She did not censor her tone, nor her words. Gently, she took hold of a segment of his long black hair and slowly began to comb through the strands, loosening any knots that had formed through the night.

 

Himchan's shoulders tensed and his eyes closed, unable to miss that judgmental tone as it washed over his skin, “I do not know what it is you mean, mother.” He stated aloud, not surprised at the sound of her un-amused scoff. He winced at a light tug on his hair and re-opened his eyes, meeting her own in the reflection.

 

“You know what I speak of, Himchan-ah, do not insult us both by pretending you are ignorant. Your behaviour is as foolish as it is risky.” Hwayah's tone held no bite or anger, merely concern as she guided his hair over his shoulders, selecting another part of it to begin combing through.

 

“My behaviour is not your concern.” The prince responded with turned down lips.

 

Hwayah sucked in a deep and slow breath. Her eyes remained focused on the rhythm of her work, fingers nimble as they eased each knot, one by one just as she had when he was a boy. Once more, her gaze lifted and her eyes met those of her son in the mirror, “Your father would have wished for you to be faithful. He would have hoped for Eunhye to bare you a child. You have been married three summers already and yet nothing.”

 

“My father would have wished for me to be _faithful._ ” Himchan felt laughter rumbling from his chest at the notion that he as an illegitimate child himself should care for faith in marriage.

 

The fingers in his hair stopped and instead two palms rested upon his shoulders, “He blessed you with a good marriage, Himchan-ah.”

 

“We were children.” The General responded. His eyes fixed onto his own reflection and he noticed once again how much older the man he saw before him now was than the boy who had been wed to the young Jung girl.

 

“You may have been then, yes, but you are not now.” Hwayah responded. Her fingers stroked along the slope of his strong shoulders, then brushed against his jaw, noticing the shallow cut that remained there, almost healed. “Your father loved you. He just wished to give you what he deemed was best. Your brother was always promised the position of King, your sister would always marry with a Lord. Your marriage to Jung Eunhye set you up with a family of status, so that your position could never be doubted.”

 

Himchan's hand lifted and he pulled his mother's fingers from where they brushed against the split in his skin, pressing his lips against the back of her palm in a tender kiss, “I know you worry, Mama. Please don't.”

 

Hwayah's smile was sad and she dipped her head to kiss his crown in response, “A mother's job is to worry.”

 

“Just as is a child's job to worry for their parent.” Himchan's eyes were imploring as their gazes met in their reflections once again. He released her hand, she continued her work in arranging his hair. “How are you? How is your heart faring?”

 

“My heart is heavy, Himchan-ah, but it is resilient. I knew his passing was not distant, and although I am not ready to finish mourning his loss, my tears have dried.” She stated honestly. A silence spread between them as she focused solely on her work and Himchan basked in her caring touch. For the first time in many years he felt like a child again, being cared for with the tender love of a mother.

 

“Mama did you love him?” Her child asked.

 

“Of course I loved him, he was our King.” Himchan exhaled through his nose and he shook his head, turning to look back at her.

 

“I do not mean that kind of love. Did you _love_ him.” He asked, brows furrowed as he had never known. He had seen the way his mother gazed upon his father, or how when in private the late King would draw her close, shower her with affections. It was not clear to him what their relationship had been, or if they had ever been more than King and courtesan.

 

Hwayah pulled his hair from where it draped across his shoulders and twisted the black strands between her fingers into a knot atop his head. Carefully, she pondered his question as she tied his hair in place, curving a ring around it to keep it in secure and finally impaling the neatly fastened knot with a golden pin. “It is not the place for a courtesan to fall in love with her King.”

 

“You are not a courtesan any longer. You have not been since the day he discovered you were carrying me.” Himchan did not relent.

 

Fingers brushed across his forehead, then over his crown to draw in any hairs that fell astray, “The day the Queen died, a darkness overwhelmed him. Although you may laugh at his idealistic desire for faithfulness, she held his heart in such warmth that no one, nor anything else could ever dream of offering him the same. His love for her was all-encompassing, just as had been hers for him.” Carefully, Hwayah withdrew her hands from her son's head, gazing to him in the mirror, “She was a kind woman, and a loving woman. Even though I was her husband's lover, she was always a friend to me, I would not insult her by claiming I was in love with him. The loves of my life are you, your brother and your sister. I have been blessed to know and raise all three of you into adulthood, I could never ask for anything more.”

 

Himchan watched as grief once again weighed upon his mother. The wrinkles upon her forehead and surrounding her mouth deepened before his eyes and he could feel his heart clench within his chest, “We love you, too.” He said, watching as a sad smile curved her lips and she stepped away from him.

 

“I know you do, I have not ever doubted it, my love.” She responded, watching as her son stood. He was only just taller than her, their features strikingly similar as they looked to one another with saddened eyes, “Please, think of what I said, Himchan-ah. No more maids, or servant boys.”

 

His head turned and he looked to her with deep eyes, “I will remember your words, Mama.” He replied as he began to lead her from his chamber and towards the summer sun. The maids and servant boys meant nothing to him, but he could not so easily relinquish the diamond boy.

 

*

 

A silver tray was held steady in Jongup's hand as he walked silently down the hallway. Few maids and guards lingered, and the thrum of conversation echoed through the palace as all prepared for the day's events. He rounded a corner and rapped his knuckles against the heavy wood of a chamber door.

 

“Come in.” Yongguk's voice was muffled by the heavy wood between them, and Jongup pushed open the door. The King's head turned as he stepped into the room, glancing to the tray of food resting upon his palm, “Sent by Hwayah?”

 

“Daehyun, Your Majesty.” Jongup responded, placing the tray down upon a dressing table as the ruler emitted a hum of amusement.

 

“Thank you for bringing it to me.” It surprised Jongup still how such a man of power could speak to him in a tone of respect. The soldier boy bowed low and began to withdraw from the room, to leave the man his privacy but he was stopped by the calling of his name.

 

“Jongup-ah.” He stilled, turned, waited.

 

Yongguk's eyes were serious and penetrating as they focused upon his face, as though taking in every detail. A person of less discipline would fold under such a gaze, but still Jongup stood tall and expressionless.

 

“You are familiar with my brother, yes?” It was posed as a question, but Jongup knew he did not need to answer. The King continued, “He is a man of great charisma and wit. His handsome face and clever words can toy with emotion. I will issue a word of caution with him, however, as I do not wish for you to get distracted from your duty in the palace. It would be best for you to keep yourself from him and his wandering eyes, before they could become wandering hands.”

 

Jongup schooled himself to calm as he was shamefully reminded of his selfishness from the lake, when he had ignored the prince's status and marriage to instead fulfil his own desires. In one fluid movement, he bowed low in acceptance of the King's words, and an expression of relief settled upon Yongguk's face.

 

“Let us go now, Jongup-ah,” between his thumb and index finger he lifted a delicacy so carefully created for him by Daehyun's talented hand, “To enjoy the revelries of the city.”

 

As Jongup followed his King towards the sun, he swore to relinquish his selfishness, and the affections of the Prince.

 

Huingol was alive with joy and energy as city folk and palace workers alike stepped into the sun to watch the games. At the heart of the city, spread out below the Palace steps was a large square, used for marketplaces and common meetings of people passing through. On this day, however, bales of hay were stacked in the centre creating an arena, and all around it mingled peasants and guards alike, eager to watch the showcase of talents those who had offered their lives to protect the city would offer them.

 

Sitting at the top of the stairs leading towards the palace, a tent had been built and beneath it were the King and his lords, all seated comfortably at a grand vantage point to lead and observe the games. To the King's right was his brother, reclining comfortably in his chair, while to his left their sister sat observing the ground below. Every few moments she would turn her head and speak to her betrothed as he settled beside her, a hand gently caressing the fair skin of her forearm, an affection that they no longer needed to conceal. Himchan smiled faintly as he noticed the tender brush of fingers over skin, but his focus was mainly drawn to the diamond boy, standing statuesque behind their King with hands clasped behind his back.

 

A servant boy stepped up beside the King and poured him a goblet of crimson drink, bowing low as the ruler offered him a warm smile, “Thank you.” He said, voice tender and low as he brought the goblet to his lips. The cloth over their heads protected their skin from the harsh summer sun, and Himchan was pleased to spread out in the shade.

 

“General Kim, do we not have the pleasure of your wife's presence today?” Lord Kil asked from his own seat beside their sister. The seat beside the General remained vacant and he straightened his stance with a soft chuckle and shake of his head, noticing his brother's eyes upon him.

 

“Unfortunately, no.” Himchan said, licking his lips as he watched his own goblet be filled, “Eunhye does not wish to subject herself to the summer heat. This form of entertainment does not often take her fancy, anyhow, although the violence is playful and friendly, she finds it all too confronting. She has chosen to spend today in her chambers instead.”

 

“A shame.” Yongguk said, lips pursed, “I would have wished to see both my siblings with their beloved today.”

 

Himchan hesitated at the word. _Beloved._ Jung Eunhye had been his wife for three years, and his friend for many before that, but he could never have seen her as his beloved. The General raised his goblet, “Maybe next year, brother.” He took a slow sip.

 

Below them, two soldiers were beginning their show. It began with a meeting of their hands, then their foreheads as they greeted one another with respect, a tradition. Next, their swords were withdrawn from their scabbards and pressed together, causing the song of metal on metal to ring through the courtyard, and an excited hum rumbled from the crowd. Finally, the two men turned towards the stairs, both bowing low then taking their position, weapons raised and bodies still.

 

Yongguk stood from his seat and raised his left hand, watching the two below him and calling, “Begin!” Suddenly, a jump of action as the soldiers pressed forward, blades crashing together as the first took their lunge. Metal met and the crowed cheered, the hype and excitement flowing in waves between people as they pressed against the stacked hay in anticipation.

 

Lord Kil chuckled as a particular swipe of sword had the crowd gasping, his head turning to glance back at those gathered behind them. Tables of food and drink were arranged and many senior enough to join the King from his viewing point were watching from around it, “Am I correct in believing we shall see a showcase of the fabled elite, General Kwon?”

 

The man straightened his spine and raised his goblet, “You are right, Kil.” He said, “The most gifted soldier I have ever had under my command shall showcase his talents, one Moon Jongin.”

 

Himchan's own head turned and he glanced back to the elder man, his brow arched, “I thought the most gifted you have known is with us beneath the canopy, General.” He said, his eyes focusing on Jongup as he stood with straight spine and gaze focused forward behind the King.

 

“Jongup-ah is surely skilled, but he lacks the discipline of his elder brother.” Kwon followed his gaze, appraising Jongup's stance with dislike, “It has been a great pleasure to have Jongin as my own.”

 

“As your own?” Lord Kil emitted another full bellied laugh, turning his kind smile back to where General Moon stood with arms folded, watching those battling below, “My dear Kwon, here I was believing their doting father was our good General Moon, yet here you are speaking of the eldest child as being yours.”

 

General Moon's hand extended and gripped steadily onto the shoulder of his youngest child, squeezing it with affection as a wide grin spread upon his lips. Himchan noticed then the similarities of that expression, and the smile that often graced Jongup's ruby lips, “Although they are my children, I would not wish for them to be trained by another. General Kwon's skills ensure that all three of my boys will become soldiers at the full capacity of their talent.”

 

“I doubt the skill they possess can be taught.” Himchan spoke, his gaze once more shifting to the sport below them, “Very few have the ability to defeat me at a duel, and yet Jongup-ah did so with little effort. I wouldn't be so quick to offer your praise to General Kwon when I believe the true nature of Jongup's physical ability is a gift from Noeul herself.”

 

A silence lingered as both the minor insult and high compliment settled upon the two generals in their company. The prince turned his head just in time to catch Jongup averting his own gaze and he smiled as the guard rallied himself and spoke, “Your Highness I would hardly say there was little effort. My skills are that of any man trained in fight.” He pushed aside the compliment and Himchan laughed.

 

“If thus is what you wish to believe, Jongup-ah, I shall not argue.” he responded, finishing off the remainder of his goblet.

 

It was the King who severed their conversation, his body lurching forward in his seat, “Jongup.” He said, and once more the soldier's focus was drawn back to his duty.

 

“Your Majesty.” He said, hands clasped together at the small of his back. The duel ended, and another was about to begin.

 

“In the Lotus study I left behind the rewards for today's victors. Will you fetch them for me?” He asked, polite in his words, but Jongup knew it was a command.

 

He bowed low and slowly withdrew, not hesitating before he began towards the palace behind them. Yongguk turned his head and glanced towards his brother. Himchan pretended not to notice.

 

“He is a very intelligent young man.” Lord Kil spoke as he turned towards his bride to be, “You must be pleased with him, Your Majesty.”

 

The King bowed his head in agreement, his lips pursed as he focused on the soldiers performing their skills, “He serves the crown well. I am sure his father is very proud.”

 

“As are his mother and brothers, I can assure you.” General Moon said with a warm smile. He gestured down towards the field before them, “My wife has come out today. She wishes to view our eldest son performing for you.”

 

Yongguk smiled, relaxing in his seat, “Extend an invitation to your wife and children to the banquet tonight, General Moon. With a son like Jongup, I am sure you are a valuable family in my Kingdom, I wish to meet them.”

 

The man bowed his head with a pleased smile, thankful that such an honourable invitation was offered to his family. All beneath the tent settled into the summer heat and returned their focus to their entertainment, comfortable in one another's presence as the rhythmic thrum of cicada song lingered in the background, until General Kwon chose to speak. He cleared his throat and straightened his spine, a hand curved around the stem of his goblet as he glanced towards the King, “There are problems brewing, Your Majesty. East of the valley, towards the ocean. I would ask that you choose myself to tend to them, think it a trial to see the capabilities of my troops.”

 

“Today is not the day to speak of war, Kwon.” Yongguk said, without looking back. Himchan watched as his brother's brow creased, his lips downturned and he stood, the action bringing the King's gaze towards him, “Brother?”

 

“The sun is not overwhelming today in its warmth.” Himchan spoke as he straightened the fold of his robes, “I shall leave in search of my wife, I hope she will wish to join us.”

 

A murmur folded its way between Lords and Generals as Himchan stepped free of the canopy and towards the palace. Only the King watched him go.

 

*

 

As Jongup walked through the palace, he went unnoticed. No maid nor servant turned to speak to him, no guard watched him pass. He liked it that way. Simple, quiet. Not a single step he took mattered, and every turn of his head, twist of his body was overlooked by those crowding the halls, filling the space around him.

 

It could not be sure whether he was treated thus because he was easily recognised as companion to the King, or whether he truly did remain invisible, unremarkable, unimportant. There was a part of him that hoped it were the latter and that even in the palace he could shroud himself in the safety of anonymity, after all it was not his position to be noticed. It was his position to do the noticing.

 

Himchan had noticed him, however, that first day in the courtyard. He had seen it, the way his royal eyes traced every inch of his face, as if filing every detail away somewhere in his mind to be assessed later. Jongup had noted the way Himchan's eyes watched him even during their duel, it had been the Prince's downfall after all. It was something he had never experienced before, the way those eyes focused only upon him, taking everything in, committing him to memory.

 

Jongup knew it had happened again in the King's conference room, when Himchan's eyes had lingered a little _too_ long, and again in his bedchamber when finally the prince had kissed him. It was during the kiss that Jongup realised he had noticed Himchan, too. _He_ had watched the prince in return all through the meeting, _he_ had seen the beads of sweat sliding down his face as he lay sprawled out and defeated upon the training ground floor. Just as _he_ had taken in every angle of his bones, every dip of his muscle as they spread out together naked in the sun, bodies thrumming with the divinity of pleasure and hands electric in their search for _more._

 

Yet as all good things must end, Jongup knew Himchan never had been his to notice.

 

The soldier tucked away his thoughts and kept his head down as he turned another corner and disappeared into the silence of the King's wing. He had been relieved when he realised that this very place would be his home and he would be sheltered away from the bustling energy of the palace, safe in the tranquility of silence. It seemed to him also that the King felt similar. He did not need constant entertainment or companionship, and instead took refuge in the quiet that often surrounded them. On occasion even Jongup's company seemed too much for him, but he had noticed how every time Daehyun joined them something in their King would relax. Maybe it was the familiarity of an old friend, maybe it was something more than that. Jongup deemed it to be none of his business.

 

A palm pressed to the heavy wood of the King's favourite study, the one that resided beside the wide courtyard with a Lotus pond at the centre. They often spent long afternoons in here, the King engrossed in papers, and Jongup in silence behind him, in case he should ever want. The large desk was spread out against the far wall, and all around them stood bookshelves against the stone walls. A divan was situated beneath a window, not far from a simple door that lead onward to the wide courtyard beyond. Jongup could see why it was Yongguk's favourite, he had grown quite fond himself.

 

Upon the desk was a box, and inside were small bags of silver and gold coins, the rewards Yongguk had called for to be given to each winner of the day's competitions. Carefully, his fingers curled around the first bag and he lifted it into his palm, feeling the weight of it. He knew that any son of a peasant would be thrilled by such a gift, it would be enough to feed a family through almost to the end of summer, or possibly to even purchase a new horse. It was a generous prize, Jongup knew, but he was not surprised. Their King was a generous man.

 

Jongup set the pouch down once more into the box, but before he had the chance to lift it into his arms, the door behind him opened and Himchan stepped in. His flawless robes washed around him and despite his newfound resolve, Jongup found himself _noticing._

 

“Himchan-hyung.” He said, voice formal as the man stepped forward towards him. A strand of his hair had fallen from it's binds and now hung at his cheek, Jongup did not notice himself reaching out to touch it until he was already pushing it back away from his eyes.

 

“Jongup-ah.” The Prince responded. It was a greeting, and a statement all in one, but it was inside Himchan's eyes that held the _offer._ Jongup wasn't sure what they offered, but he wanted to know, he wanted so much. He wanted Himchan's hands to find his skin, and he wanted those pink lips to press to his ear, to whisper ruby words of nothing and everything all coming together at once. Jongup wanted to take everything Himchan had to give.

 

And so selfishly, he took.

 

The soldier lurched forward and pressed their mouths together in a hasty meeting of lips to lips. It did not take long for the prince to catch up, to catch _him._ Hands that were growing ever more familiar settled upon his hips, then Himchan's mind changed and he instead wound an arm around Jongup's middle, drawing him in closer until they stood chest to chest in the centre of the study.

 

He had never believed it could be so easy to lose ones self in something as simple as a kiss, but with that mouth so hot and familiar against his, nothing else seemed to matter. The box of coin remained untouched and uncared for on the desk behind him, the games lay forgotten beyond the twisting halls of a palace that no longer registered to Jongup.

 

Himchan emitted a low sound of pleasure, not much, just a small murmur of something that rolled unwittingly from his chest and it was that which had Jongup grounded so solidly in this moment. A moment where his fingers noticed every inch of Himchan that was in reach, where his tongue searched for something, _anything_ with which he could imprint his mind and heart.

 

Jongup's hands lifted and between his palms he caught Himchan's face, cradling his angled jaw as he took everything he craved, everything he desired, and everything he knew he could not have.

 

It was at that thought that the world returned to him. Once more, the sounds of Himchan's voice caught in his throat, and the soft and pliant lips against his faded into the background as Jongup noticed the flowing rhythm of water outside, faint cheers from a distant game, and the approaching footsteps of a patrolling guard.

 

He withdrew and gasped for breath, as though breaking through the surface of water. Oxygen flooded his lungs, and the Prince protested. His lips trailed along the curve of Jongup's jaw, then shifted to his pulse as he gripped his body so close against his, never willing to relinquish his hold.

 

“Himchan-” Jongup gasped, his eyes rolling back into his skull. He did not want to let go, especially as nimble fingers began to work at the binds of his robe, swift in their haste to remove him of dress, “Stop.” His voice was clearer than he anticipated it to be.

 

Himchan's eyes lifted and his hands stilled, then once more arms were around him, drawing him close, cradling him with an affection so tender that Jongup forgot how to breathe, “What is the matter?” He breathed, Jongup knew Himchan would not take what he did not offer.

 

The soldier boy lifted his hand and he brushed the pads of his slender fingers gently over the split skin that remained unhealed upon the Prince's jaw. Himchan smiled at the tender touch as his eyes once more took in Jongup's face. He wondered what it was Himchan was searching for, if there was an angle, or an aspect he had not yet been given ample opportunity to memories.

 

Jongup turned his head and he glanced back at the box of coin sitting atop the desk, he had been distracted by Himchan's lips when on errand from the King himself, and every second longer their ruler had to wait signified Jongup losing sight of his well trained discipline. Himchan leant forward and brushed his lips over the shell of his ear, “You are so beautiful, Jongup.” He murmured and Jongup was afraid that all too soon, he would be sucked underwater again, “As though you were cut from diamonds.”

 

“Your Highness...” Jongup said again, tugging the arms from where they gripped him, his head turning once more.

 

Himchan froze and Jongup took the opportunity to slip from his hold, “I asked you not to call me that.” He said, stepping backwards as Jongup turned towards the desk.

 

“Your Highness, the King is awaiting my return.” He said, his voice even as he lifted the box into his arms, drawing it against his chest. Yongguk had been right to warn him of the dangers held in Himchan's eyes.

 

“I can handle my brother, Jongup-ah.” Himchan's tone was wary, his voice serious as he noticed the shift in the soldier's demeanour, “Tell me what lingers upon your mind.”

 

“I am not here to talk of my mind, Your Highness.” Jongup spoke as he turned again, his brows furrowed and his gaze pleading, “I am here to serve the King, not entertain his brother.” His eyes lifted and finally, he lay them not upon Himchan, his companion in the forest. Instead he looked at the Prince and Master General, a married man who held the weight of politics and duty upon his shoulders.

 

Silence spread between them, and Himchan's expression remained steady. His eyes dropped to where Jongup's knuckles where white as they gripped the edges of the boxes he held. The Prince's jaw clenched, “Entertainment, Jongup-ah, is instruments and dance. Do not insult me with claims that the literature of your body is a game for me to play.”

 

Jongup's lips parted and he wished to speak, but Himchan shook his head and in silence, he disappeared into the darkness of the hallways.

 

Jongup needed to take a moment to catch his breath, because when the prince had left the room, he had taken it with him. With eyes closed, he tried to re-focus his mind and straighten the path he had been so dutifully following for so many years in preparation for his life of discipline. Who knew something so simple as a man could shake his very foundation.

 

A bird called from the stream outside, and Jongup opened his eyes and began to make his way back to where the King awaited his return. His footsteps were quiet against the stone floor as he rounded a corner, he was sure these halls were empty by now, with all in the palace having left the cool rooms in favour of the sun washed square outside. When he rounded a corner, he was surprised to hear the voice of a woman entwined with the rhythm of running water, too hushed to make out the words.

 

Jongup stopped by the opening to a courtyard, and he could see the elegant form of a woman standing in the centre. She was donned in deep green robes, with her black hair tied atop her head but her back was to him, and he could not make out her face.

 

“You know I have always found you beautiful...” She said, slender fingers curling into the silks of her skirts, “Ever since I lay my eyes upon you.”

 

Another voice came from where Jongup could not see, a second woman, “My Lady my beauty is nothing when compared to your own.” Footsteps brushed against stone, and soon the second voice was attached to a face. She was a maid, young and slender with delicate features and rich black hair, and she stepped closer to the elegant lady, fingers reaching out to brush over silk.

 

“Hush...” The mistress hummed, her hands lifting to take tender hold of the maid's jaw, her thumb rubbing gently against the ruby swell of a lower lip, “Aejong-ah... You are like wild flowers blossoming in Spring, or the first light of dawn. Your eyes are an ocean I will gladly lose myself in.” The Lady said and she dipped forward to capture those lips with her own.

 

The kiss was so gentle and tender, and Jongup knew it was not a kiss of claiming possession, but one of love and adoration. He swallowed at the sight and the women withdrew, but as the maid looked over her Lady's shoulder, their gaze met. She froze and her eyes widened like a doe caught in sight of a predator, and Jongup saw how she seemed stuck between withdrawing from her Lady, or folding into her loving comfort. The maid was forgotten when the elegant mistress turned her head, and Jongup met eyes with Jung Eunhye, Himchan's wife.

 

A shock rippled through him and he took a step backwards into the hallway with a low bow of respect, eager to escape from such an intimate moment but was stopped as a lyrical voice called to him.

 

“Moon Jongup.” The woman said. He stilled, his spine straight and body frozen as confusion rippled through him, the image of such a loving kiss painted across his mind.

 

“Lady Kim.” He greeted her, “I apologise for intruding upon you.” He stated with an even tone, his gaze steady as he straightened again to focus once more upon her. He watched the way her fingers laced together worriedly, her brow furrowed in concern and her beautiful face filled with uncertainty. With his focus upon her properly for the first time, he was able to take note of how young she was, with her black hair tied at the nape of her neck and her red stained lips pressed together.

 

“As assistant to the King, it is your right to be moving through these halls. You did not intrude.” She said, it was a lie. What he saw was something she had never meant to be witnessed by another. It was clear there was more she wished to speak, and so he remained silent in hopes of urging her onwards to vocalise her concern. Her head turned and she glanced back towards the courtyard, it was now empty, “You...” She began in a soft tone, then cleared her throat, “You will not tell my Husband what you saw... Will you?”

 

She sounded afraid, and it had Jongup pausing. Whatever love was shared between her and the maid was a secret from Himchan, just as he assumed his own affair with the Master General was kept from her. A guilt rocked at the pit of his stomach, she could not know of how mere moments ago he had been held in the arms of her husband, or how days before it had been him spread out and worshipped by the General's lips and tongue in the summer sunshine. He shook his head, “General Kim does not need to know what my lady does not wish for him to.”

 

Her shoulders relaxed and she closed her eyes, “Thank you...” She breathed, stepping forward towards him, but seemingly stopping herself before she could get too close.

 

He tilted his head to the side and surveyed her with curiosity, “You did not accompany the General to the games this afternoon, but it was not because of the heat as he so stated.” It was not a question, and her lips twitched into the faintest hint of a smile.

 

“I have not seen the General since his Majesty was coronated.” She confessed, attempting to gauge something from Jongup's masked expression.

 

“But My Lady... As his wife do you not take rest with him?” The question he asked was too prying, and he regretted the words as soon as they slipped from his curious lips. However she merely smiled to him, shaking her head.

 

“No. Himchan takes rest in his chamber, and I do in mine.” There was no sadness in her eyes as she elegantly shrugged her right shoulder, “We were married very young, a union of strategy rather than passion. We make do with our situation and offer one another privacy to live as we wish.”

 

“He is lucky, My Lady. To have a wife as beautiful as you.” Jongup said the words, even as more of that bitter guilt tore at him. Even as he had watched Lady Kim kissing another, she remained the General's wife.

 

“Himchan continues his life as he deems it right, just as I continue mine.” She said with a nod of her head, glancing behind her towards the courtyard, “My affections lie on things... softer than my husband.” She looked down.

 

“You do not wish for him to know that your heart is taken.” Jongup replied. She smiled to him sheepishly and nodded her head,“I understand, My Lady.”

 

“Thank you.” She stated. He bowed once more but before he could turn, she spoke again, “Come and sit with me some time, Jongup-ah. I should like to know you better. I have heard pretty words spoken about you.”

 

His head tilted to the side in curiosity, but instead he simply agreed, “It shall be a pleasure of mine to meet with you again, Lady Kim.”

 

Her beautiful smile lingered in his mind as he hurried down the hallway and into the sun.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my gosh thank you to everyone for being so patient while I skipped a week. I always work really hard to try and make sure I am posting a chapter every week (on thursdays aest!), but last week was my birthday and the combination of an insane work schedule and family commitments, I never had the time to look at this story! I have missed it so very very much, and I am excited to get moving onto it again. This chapter is a bit of a patchwork quilt, and I hope it was enjoyed by everyone who read it!
> 
> Thank you again _so_ much for all of your patience, I'll see you next chapter!


	6. Chapter 6

That evening, they feasted with the people. Tents were erected across the square, and all who had come to witness the games gathered together to share in the luxurious feast provided to them by their King's tireless kitchens. Everyone, from Lords to Blacksmiths shed their titles and differences to instead enjoy themselves in relaxed celebration.

 

A string of lanterns hung along the edge of the tent, illuminating all in their crimson glow while the rumble of conversation filled the warm air between them. Yongguk was standing tall with his hand curled around the stem of a bronze goblet and caught deep into discussion with the Generals who came to pay their respects. Jongup stood with his hands clasped behind his back at the King's side, in case ever he were to be needed.

 

Every few moments a foot soldier or peasant worker would step up and greet their King with nervous smiles and deep bows, and every time Yongguk would turn to them with the radience of his gentle smile. It was something Jongup admired about their King. His care for the Peninsula went beyond politics and formality, he had an honest desire for each and every one of his subjects to live a good life, and he gazed upon each citizen with such kindness and warmth, never treating them as though they were anything but his equal.

 

On the opposite side of the tent stood Himchan, in conversation with General Kwon who looked upon those around him as though they were rats carrying disease through the murky underground of the city. The Prince on the other hand, matched his brother in grace by sending gentle smiles to each citizen who came his way. Jongup had caught himself watching Himchan as he stood politely engrossed in the excited conversation of humble parents, ecstatic that their children were chosen as the games' winning soldiers. The father's chest was puffed out as he spoke with booming pride of their eldest son's accomplishments, while his young wife grew flustered every time the Master General's handsome smile was focused towards her.

 

Jongup thought he could relate. Every time Himchan smiled at him like _that_ it was as though suddenly the sun beat down on him hotter, and his lungs tightened making it all that little bit harder to breathe. Ever since their evening by the lake, his mind would blank when their eyes met, and all he would remember was the sound of Himchan's voice whispering his name like a prayer into his ear, as he succumbed to the divinity of pleasure.

 

Somewhere across the tent, a goblet clattered against the pavement and laughter erupted, drawing Jongup from his thoughts. His head turned and he watched as a stable hand stepped up to the King with a low bow and nervous smile. He was dressed in a simple hessian robe of brown, secured around his waist with a worn leather belt that Jongup assumed would hold tools for his work if he were in the stables. Yongguk returned the bow with one of his own as he extended his pale, soft hands to meet with the calloused pair of the hard worker.

 

The stable boy began to speak of how he adored caring for the King's mare, who resided within the royal stables, and Jongup listened to how their monarch spoke of her with such love. Jongup stood in silence, hands clasped behind his back and his eyes following every movement of the stable boy's graphic gesticulations. It was his role to protect, and never to trust. While Yongguk would exchange simple pleasantry with the boy, Jongup was alert so that even if this stranger were to merely reach a hand too far, he could snap bone before a finger came in contact with the King.

 

“My companion's own steed resides beside mine, is that correct?” Yongguk asked with a simple gesture towards Jongup.

 

“That is correct, Your Majesty. Boyeon and Yeona seem to share in familiarity. They are not unfriendly to one another.” The stable hand said with an enthused nod of his head.

 

“How good.” Yongguk nodded with a satisfied smile, lifting his gaze to focus elsewhere momentarily. His expression was soft as he returned his attention to the stable boy, “If you will excuse me, friend. There is a guest I wish to greet.”

 

Jongup's eyes lifted and he caught sight of his father taking a goblet into his hand, his other arm secure around the slim middle of his beautiful mother. Jonghwan and Jongin stood side by side behind them as they approached the King slowly, while the stable boy melted back into the crowd.

 

“Your Majesty.” General Moon greeted Yongguk, all four of the family members bowing low before their King.

 

“General, it is a pleasure to meet you again after the joys of today.” Yongguk said, dipping his own head. Jongup's fingers were going white with how hard he was clenching them together to prevent himself from reaching out to his mother.

 

“The pleasure is ours, I assure you. Allow me to present my wife, Gayeong, and my two eldest sons, Moon Jongin and Moon Jonghwan.” The General gestured proudly to his family, but his wife had her focus remaining upon her youngest child presented so neatly in his Indigo uniform with neatly tied hair.

 

“I was impressed to watch your children performing today, General. It gave me great pride to see the sons of one of Huingol's finest General's performing at such high quality.” Yongguk smiled warmly, watching as the two eldest son's bowed low to him once more. The man turned his head again to address Jongup's mother when he noticed the way her gaze remained focused on her child, and his face softened, while a low chuckle rumbled from within his chest, “Jongup-ah, you may greet your mother if you so wish.”

 

As soon as the words were stated, the soldier lurched forward and was brought into the loving arms of his beautiful Mama. He closed his eyes and melted against her, basking in the scent of home as she embraced him. It ended too soon, as all good things do, and they were pulling apart again.

 

“It brings me such joy to see you again, my love.” She said with adoring eyes. Jongup smiled and nodded.

 

“I have missed you, Mama.” He replied, even as he returned to his position with hands clasped behind his back.

 

The heat of an unfamiliar palm brushed against the back of Jongup's head, and he turned to see Yongguk's gentle eyes focused upon him. It was an affectionate touch, and one that brought a surprise through the soldier, though he returned the offered smile with ease, “Your child has been a great asset to my Palace.”

 

“We could not be prouder of him, Your Majesty.” Gayeong said in a steady voice. Her pride was evident through her tone.

 

A shuffle of slippers against floor, and a palm brushing against his hip did not go unnoticed to Jongup as Himchan's form appeared by his side. Ruby lips pressed together in a line as Jongup stood tall between the two royal brothers.

 

“General Moon.” He greeted with a steady tone, and a confident curve of his lips, “Is this your family?”

 

“Master General.” Jongup's father responded with a bow of his head, “It is. My wife, Gayeong and my sons.”

 

Himchan smiled and bowed his head and extended a hand to the woman before him. She slipped her fingers into his palm with a surprised arch of her brows, watching as he pressed his lips to the back of her palm in tender greeting, “Madame it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance. I can see from where our young Jongup gets his beauty.”

 

“Your Highness, I thank you, but I am no Madame, simply a peasant mother and wife.” She responded, albeit slightly startled and with a light flush to her cheeks.

 

“Peasant or no, Madame, your beauty is that of aristocracy.” Himchan responded, his head turning to glance at her youngest child. The soldier stood tall, his gaze focused straight ahead, not sparing a glance to the Prince beside him.

 

Yongguk's eyes were not pleased as he turned to look upon his younger brother with a furrowed brow, as the gentle woman looked upon the General in confusion, “Does my son assist you as well, General?”

 

“No Madame, Jongup-ah is not here to entertain me. His role serving my brother fills his days far too much for that. I would not wish to be a _distraction._ ” Himchan said, and Jongup's shoulders tensed for the briefest of moments, before the tension melted away like snow in Summer as his composure returned to him. Thankfully his parents focus was too taken by the Prince before them to notice.

 

“What my brother means, Madame, is that while Jongup is eager to help all those who ask anything of him, his position binds him to me and no others. I am sure many of my generals are envious of such a hard worker being mine alone. Some would wish for him to be theirs.” Yongguk smiled, his hand settling on the small of Jongup's back, a show of his pride. The soldier straightened and his lips curved into a slight smile.

 

“I do what I must to fulfil my position, Your Majesty.” He stated. Himchan's lips pursed and his head turned away as his arms folded slowly across his chest.

 

With a bow of his head, the Prince withdrew, “Excuse me.” He said simply and stepped from their sides to disappear into the crowd again. Yongguk watched him go and turned once more to glance at the family standing before him.

 

“Please Madame, I do hope you shall enjoy the festivities.” He stated with a bow of his head, “My kitchens have worked tirelessly to provide such exquisite delicacies for each of our guests.”

 

“It has been an honour to meet you, Your Majesty. The celebrations are beautiful, I am so grateful to be present.” Gayeong responded with a deep bow of her own.

 

The King's lip quirked at the gentle melody of her voice, and a twinge of familiarity warmed him. The air of gentility and kindness reminded him so much of Jongup, “I assure you, the honour is mine.” With those words, the crowd swelled around them, and Jongup watched his family be swallowed into it's current. Once more, they were surrounded by unfamiliar faces, and he followed each of the King's footsteps beneath the tent.

 

Somewhere above the mountains, clouds gathered in the sunset skies and thunder rolled in anticipation.

 

*

 

The feast lasted long into the night, emptying the palace of it's hard working staff to join in on the festivities. Dark had fallen, but in the warm glow of the paper lanterns and the lasting Summer heat the people of Huingol were content to continue in their revelry.

 

Himchan had slipped free not long after the sun had dipped below the towering mountains and returned to the dark halls of their empty palace. There was hardly a person in sight, other than the occasional sighting of a servant continuing in their work, or a guard on their silent patrol.

 

The palm of his hand pressed against the sturdy bronze door that separated the public and private halves of the palace and he ignored the stationary guards that stood like statues on either side as it fell closed with a muted thud behind him. The Prince had little patience for smiles and formality that night.

 

He walked in silence down the slender corridor in a whisper of silk until behind him he heard the creak of hinges, and the second thud of a closing door.

 

“Himchan.” Yongguk's voice was deep, but it was quiet. Little emotion was betrayed in the mere uttering of his name, but he couldn't be surprised at the sound of it. His head turned and he offered a bow to his elder brother.

 

“Your Majesty.” He voiced his greeting. They looked at one another for a long time before either was willing to break the silence that lingered between them.

 

“You disappeared today during the games.” Yongguk said, stepping quietly across the floor towards his brother. He passed the younger and began making his way down the hall and deeper into their wing, Himchan followed. They fell into step beside one another. Few candles had been lit, and their figures were illuminated mostly by the moon that peered out from between gathering clouds, “Did you find your wife?”

 

Himchan did not respond, instead threading his fingers together behind his back. He remembered the expression on Jongup's face earlier in the study as his ebony hair had tumbled into the eyes that were filled with an unvoiced conflict.

 

Yongguk understood his brother's silence and he pursed his lips, “With what eyes do you look upon Jongup?” There was no ambiguity in the question, and a bitter amusement pooled in Himchan's gut.

 

He remembered the way water droplets glistened against Jongup's diamond beauty, how the pad of his rounded thumb had brushed over the thorax of the suffering cicada as though it were the most precious animal under the heavenly skies, how his lips had parted in silent ecstasy as his body succumbed to the pleasures bestowed upon him by Himchan.

 

Ever since the moment their eyes had met across a simple training ground, Jongup had began to show Himchan a spectrum of colour he had never known, but now he had seen them, he could no longer exist without them.

 

Himchan's head lifted and he looked at his elder brother, “I look upon him with the eyes of a Prince to a servant.” He lied.

 

The King's lips pursed into a thoughtful expression, and he nodded, “I hoped thus was the case.” He said, they had stopped walking. Yongguk turned and he faced his brother, eyes watchful as he continued, “When I asked him to keep away from you, I had thought I were being overly cautious.”

 

The words caused Himchan pause, but his schooled expression remained the same as he flashed a simple smile to the King, “Misunderstandings, brother.”

 

“Have you considered what I said to you?” The question was far vaguer than the one preceeding it, and Yongguk was able to gauge the confusion upon his brother's face, “About the silence of servants... And the value of your wife to you.”

 

His mother's words from that morning echoed in his ears as Yongguk spoke, and he eased a smile onto his lips. He knew that no maid nor servant boy would be anything when compared to the grace of his diamond. “A married man should not have the time for frivolity with servants. I understand your concerns, Yongguk-ah, and I assure you no more rumours will meet your ears regarding them.”

 

A little way down the hall, a door opened and the warm golden glow spilled out creating angled shadows on the stone. Himchan watched as a figure emerged from the room, their silhouette striking against the inviting light as they stood in silence and gazed upon the brothers. Yongguk's attention was drawn to their company and Himchan noticed how his expression softened, “I am thankful to hear it, and now I shall bid you goodnight, brother.” He said, returning his gaze to Himchan.

 

“Rest well, Yongguk.” Himchan said and the King nodded.

 

Yongguk walked down the hall and followed the silhouette into the waiting comfort of the room. For the first time in his life, he could feel a rift breaking between him and his brother as he let the words sink into his skin. Jongup had never wished to push him away, he was only following orders which held a gravity that far surpassed those the Prince himself was able to give.

 

Alone, he continued onwards down the hall, passing the chamber that housed his brother and his silent companion. The sounds of revelry were left far behind as Himchan was sucked into the twisting darkness of the palace, and all else was swallowed by the rumbling of oncoming thunder as it advanced towards them. Rain would be a welcome relief from the heat that hung heavy across the city, and Himchan prayed his mind would be cleansed with the earth beneath their feat.

 

Behind his eyes settled too much thought of the soldier boy whom was not Himchan's for the taking. He thought of the crimson rhythm of Jongup's heart as it beat within the case of his chest, the green of his patience entwined with his kindness through every word and action. Jongup was blue, he was gold, he was hues and tones Himchan had never seen before, and feared he would never see again.

 

The long corridor curved and to the left it spilled out into a simple courtyard. There were no lights but even in the dark, Himchan could recognise the diamond boy standing still beside a bed of green leaves with a single lilac chrysanthemum flowering in its centre.

 

Jongup's head turned and his gaze landed upon Himchan, he showed no sign of surprise, “Your Highness.” he greeted, Himchan did not argue against the title.

 

In a pull of gravity, the prince stepped into the courtyard, and for the first time in weeks a cool breeze brushed against his skin, “Jongup-ah...” He responded.

 

The soldier turned once more and gazed again to the bed of leaves that surrounded the single blossom, its thin petals creating a divine geometry. No other bud had sprouted from any of the surrounding stems, and yet this flower was in full bloom. The very tip of Jongup's index finger traced the curve of a petal, “It is not season for Chrysanthemums until after the next full moon.” He said simply.

 

“It has come early to celebrate its beauty.” the Prince said, extending his own hand to touch the flower. For a moment, their wrists brushed but then they pulled away.

 

“Unless it is sick.” Jongup tipped his head, gaze lowered, “If it drops its seeds before it is time, they will not take to the earth. The heat will prevent it. The beauty of its petals will distract from the cold of death taking it.”

 

Himchan watched as the slender stem swayed in the breeze, “As a child I adored Chrysanthemums. I thought nothing on this earth could ever be so beautiful.” His gaze lifted and he traced his eyes across the angle of Jongup's cheekbones, and the elegant slant of his eyes, “Of course that was long before I lay my eyes upon you.”

 

A smile tugged at the corner of Jongup's lips, “All that glitters is not gold.”

 

“No.” The prince agreed, “Instead you are diamond.”

 

The soldier's head dipped and his hair fell to cover his eyes, avoiding looking upon Himchan as the warmth of such a compliment washed over him. He watched the way Jongup's fingers once again traced the rounded curve of a petal, then dipped lower to rub at the hard stem that supported the blossom's weight.

 

“I know what my brother asked of you.” The prince said, and Jongup's digit stilled. His palm was towards the sky and Himchan watched as the first heavy raindrop landed upon his skin, with small splashes extending along his slender fingers.

 

A patter on the roof followed, then the tap of droplets against stone floor but still as the rain began to cascade from the sky and onto their bodies, neither man moved.

 

“I cannot risk becoming a distraction.” Jongup responded, his head lifting to look at Himchan.

 

“You cannot risk becoming a distraction, or being distracted?” The elder man asked with a tilt of his head, “You did not push me away due to lack of interest, Jongup-ah...”

 

The soldier pursed his lips in thought, his gaze focused towards the dark hallway that spread out behind Himchan, “I have not earned the luxury of such an interest.”

 

“Affection is not a luxury.” Himchan responded with a shake of his head. A strike of lightning illuminated their surroundings until once more they were encased in the darkness of night, all while the rain began to beat heavier down upon them. Himchan watched a droplet slip from Jongup's hair to trail down the side of his face, then disappear into his robe.

 

“I am not in the palace to be your lover, nor your plaything.” Jongup finally said, standing his ground as Himchan took a single step forward. Slender fingers extended, and the soldier did not flinch as the prince pushed Jongup's wet hair from where it hung in his eyes, weighed down by rain.

 

“You are not a plaything to me, Jongup.” Himchan's voice held a steadiness as their gazes met and were held together. Even after so little time, the power of Jongup's gaze could make Himchan forget how to breathe.

 

The crease of Jongup's brow lingered as the soldier's mind searched for some kind of solution. His desire battled against the weight of his duty, and every time he attempted to wear a path through the brambles of his thought, he still ended up in Himchan's arms.

 

It was the warmth of a palm against his cheek that crumbled his resolve, and their foreheads were brought together. Himchan breathed Jongup in, and Jongup basked in the affections he could not so easily starve himself of.

 

“Come to bed with me... I will warm your skin, and protect you from the rain's chill.” Himchan murmured, and their lips brushed. With a nod of his head, Jongup decided that duty could wait just one more night.

 

Himchan withdrew and pressed his palm against Jongup's to twine their fingers together. Slowly, they made their way across the courtyard, away from the direction the Prince had come in and under the cover of an awning. The halls were silent as they walked, leaving wet footsteps on stone and finally, Himchan guided Jongup into a wide chamber on the opposite side of the wing from where the King resided, and where Jongup too was at home.

 

The young soldier noticed the trinkets and decorations that covered many surfaces, from silk wall hangings to crimson lanterns that hung low to illuminate the room. Against the wall lay a wide bed, covered in a linen sheet with soft furs folded at the foot to offer protection from late night chill. In the corner, beneath a wide window sat a Janggu before a pillow with an array of more simple instruments arranged neatly beside. Jongup had not known that Himchan played, Jongup did not know a great deal about the prince.

 

A pool of water was beginning to form at Jongup's feet, and the prince stepped up behind him. At first, hands smoothed around his waist, palms pressing into the drenched silks that hung heavy from Jongup's limbs. The hold was gentle, and even as Himchan began to work at the knotted ties at the front of Jongup's uniform, the soldier wished nothing more than for the world to disappear around them, because nothing else could matter. With the belt undone, it fell to the stone floor, the metal buckle emitting a clang as it met with tile, yet the sound fell on ears that had no time for the music of anything but the rhythmic breaths of their companion.

 

The tip of Himchan's index finger curved around the front of Jongup's robe and slowly more digits followed to draw back the fabric that curtained the soldier's body from sight. It fell into a wet heap upon the floor, and a shiver ran down Jongup's spine as he stood wearing nothing but his linen under garments and Himchan stepped closer, his chest almost pressed against Jongup's back.

 

Jongup could feel the heat radiating from the Prince's hands as breath ghosted over the side of his neck, and he tipped his head to the side. With tender care, the final barrier between Himchan's gaze and Jongup's naked skin began to be drawn away as the prince pulled at the simple cloth and revealed the first of the flesh he so desperately craved. The slope of Jongup's slender shoulders was mesmerising, and Himchan leant forward to take his first taste in the form of an open mouthed kiss.

 

Rain had dampened Jongup's skin and the taste of it mixed with the flavour that naturally lingered, and once more Himchan was growing intoxicated. So easily, he could move through the tinge of the rain and focus solely on the addictive notes that so exquisitely made up _Jongup._ A gasp fluttered through the air as the prince's tongue pressed forward to lap at the exposed shoulder, all while Himchan continued to guide the linen from where it clung on to his diamond's skin, pushing it to fall as well to the floor leaving Jongup finally bare.

 

Himchan did not know what it was he wished to touch first, but as he withdrew his lips, Jongup was turning in his arms and leaning in to every brush of fingers offered to him. He began to work at the ties of Himchan's own rich clothing, eager to bring the prince into a matching state with him while heat began to build between them.

 

When Himchan's robe finally joined Jongup's upon the floor, their mouths met and all else was lost. Jongup tasted like summer and rain, and Himchan could not get enough. His hands grasped for purchase upon the younger's strong body, his fingers pressing into where the skin was soft.

 

They stumbled backwards towards the edge of the bed and Jongup continued to push at the clothes as they clung with water to Himchan's hot skin. He emitted a sound of frustration and broke the kiss to impatiently pull the fabric away from his lover and throw it aside, drawing forth a soft chuckle of amusement from the prince himself, who took the opportunity to slow them down before the fire of their desire consumed them.

 

“Lay back...” It was a suggestion, not a command, and Jongup eagerly accepted. His wet feet left footprints on the tile floor until he was laying himself upon the sheets atop Himchan's bed, his hot palm sliding slowly over the folded furs, relishing in their softness. Once again Himchan was watching him as though he were about to disappear and it had his head turning away.

 

Himchan followed him and planted a knee upon the edge of the mattress, his head tilting as he saw the way Jongup avoided his gaze, “Why do you avoid me?” He asked with a chuckle. Lips pressed to a sturdy thigh, then a hipbone, reacquainting themselves with much missed skin.

 

“Why do you look at me like that?” In the dimly lit room, shadows were cast across Jongup's face, causing his angled bones to be accentuated.

 

“Like what?” Himchan asked, his lips pressing just beneath his navel, licking away a droplet of water that lingered there. The rhythm of Jongup's breaths was picking up, and fingers slid up his naked arm to settle on his shoulder, as though the soldier were in need of grounding himself.

 

“As though you don't believe I am real.” Himchan smiled as those words gave a name to the feeling that settled in his chest. Hot breath fanned out over skin, and Jongup twitched beneath him.

 

“Because I never knew the world was capable of someone as beautiful as you, my diamond boy.” He responded while his hands settled to grip the strong hips beneath him as he dipped his head down and engulfed the head of Jongup's sex.

 

A gasp of pleasure was caught in the soldier's throat as he arched and the fingers that so carefully gripped Himchan's shoulders instead sunk into his perfectly tied hair, pulling it from it's binds. The prince closed his eyes as he lost himself in his own eagerness to bathe the beautiful boy in the warmth of pleasure and affection, swallowing him down with a hunger he had not realised he possessed since their afternoon by the lake. It was intoxicating and sinful, but neither man was willing to make it stop as a crescendo of gasps and moans filtered through the air between them.

 

Jongup's spine arched with exquisite grace as Himchan's hands gripped his hips in an attempt to keep him still and maintain control between them while the younger began to fall apart against the linens. His thighs spread and his face contorted with waves of divine bliss as he indulged himself in the heat of Himchan's giving mouth.

 

The Prince opened his eyes and watched as his name was whispered like a prayer from Jongup's mouth as his body twisted in rapture and was overwhelmed by orgasm.

 

Air was heavy between them as Himchan withdrew and swallowed Jongup down. His two palms ran over the tense thighs that lay spread out on the bed, before they rose to instead pull the golden pin and cuff from where they held his hair in place and instead allowed it to fall to where it could touch his shoulders.

 

“ _My diamond boy..._ ” Jongup quoted the words, watching Himchan as he set the decorations aside and began pulling off the rings that encircled his fingers. The elder glanced over his shoulder and the soldier pushed himself carefully to sit, sliding his hands along the back of Himchan's shoulder, following the touch with trails of feather light kisses. He settled his chin against a strong shoulder, watching in silence while the Master General discarded his status and left himself as naked as his companion.

 

“I do not exaggerate my passion for your beauty.” Himchan turned his head, his nose nudging into the head of black hair by his and his lips followed in the press of a tender kiss. Jongup smiled and returned the affections by pressing his mouth to Himchan's nape, exhaling as he did so. When the Prince extended his hand to drop the final of his rings by his bed, Jongup caught sight of a scar marring the back of his hand, and his own fingers extended to brush against it.

 

The tip of his index finger traced the length of the faint mark, and he wondered how he had not noticed it before. Himchan watched the fingers as they brushed so gently over his skin.

 

“An accident, when I was a boy.” He offered the explanation Jongup had not asked for, he responded with a nod.

 

“Yongguk and I were playing by the sea.” Himchan turned his head and watched Jongup's expression. When they had first met, Himchan had struggled to read the soldier's schooled and blank expression, but now he could see the concern that brewed in Jongup's guarded eyes, he continued, “We were climbing over rocks as the tide came in. I slipped, and a rock dug deep into my flesh as I fell into the water. Yongguk followed me in, he pulled me to shore.”

 

Jongup's head lifted and he met the Prince's gaze, brows furrowed as his mind mulled over the new information, “Does it ever hurt?”

 

“No.” Himchan reassured him, his hand pulling from where Jongup so gently stroked over the marked skin to instead cup his fair cheek, “Many years have passed, Jongup-ah. It is nothing but a mark upon my skin.” He shifted from where he sat at the edge of the bed and together, they moved to recline, heads against the soft pillows and sheets being drawn across their naked skin to shield them from the storm's cool air.

 

Carefully, the soldier rolled to lay upon his front, and Himchan's hand felt the gravitational pull to his skin, tracing lines between scars and moles that marked his topaz skin, “You have marks of your own, my diamond.”

 

Jongup glanced back along his spine and nodded, chewing momentarily upon his plush lower lip, “Reminders of childhood, and of my military training.” Himchan's finger lingered upon a particularly prominent scar and he dipped his head to kiss it, “Did you frequently visit the ocean as a boy?”

 

“On occasion.” Himchan murmured against his skin, eyes closing, “My father's lost wife was born by the Ocean. Sometimes during the Summer we would visit them if ever we wished to escape the heat. My mother would care for us while our Father continued on his duties.”

 

Jongup tried to picture it. He could imagine a young Himchan, dressed in fine silks as he raced around and explored the unfamiliarity surrounding them, he could even picture the studious Crown Prince sitting beneath a seaside tree with a book gripped tightly in his hand. It was the ocean that Jongup could not see, a vast and endless blue, a merciless power ready to destroy anything that may test her.

 

“I have never seen the Ocean.” Jongup admitted, his head turning to watch as Himchan's nose nudged at his protruding shoulder blades, “And yet some nights I dream of it.”

 

The elder lifted his head and his lips curved into a smile, “Even those who have lived landlocked can yearn for the sea like fishermen.”

 

“I desperately hope to see it.” The soldier rest his head down upon the pillow and melted under the gentle affection Himchan continued to bestow upon his body.

 

“One day I shall take you.” He said, voice little more than a whisper. “We'll ride for days on end until we stand atop a cliff and you can see her spread out wide, where everything and nothing exist all at once.”

 

The serenity of sleep began to weigh Jongup down as his eyes closed, and Himchan's voice spoke of a never ending sky. For a moment Jongup wondered if the music of crashing waves was anything in comparison to that of Himchan's voice. No, he thought. Not even the most beautiful orchestra could be anything compared to that.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It may feel like nothing happens in this chapter but lemme tell you this is allllll gonna be important later ;)  
> Much love to all of you, thank you for reading!


	7. Chapter 7

When Jongup awoke, he was alone. Light spilled in from the window and bathed the bed in warmth while he lay stretched out and naked beneath the simple white linens, content in his relaxed state. The song of birds outside reminded him of his need to rise from bed, but laying there surrounded by the scent of Himchan, he couldn't find it within himself to move.

 

Across the room, his clothes were folded upon a chair that sat beside a strong wooden writing desk with stacks of paper and leather bound books, all worn with age, pushed to sit precariously at the edge. Spread out at the centre of the table, before a clouded mirror was an array of golden pins encrusted with jewels and a fine toothed comb made from bone, tools the soldier assumed were used by the Prince in readying himself for the previous evenings formalities. Jongup wondered how much time the prince spent hidden away in his most private chambers, where no one could see him nor touch him. It was here that he could even find refuge from those who were supposed to be privy to the most private side of his life, but Jongup knew even his wife would seldom enter this room. If she ever had.

 

Not too far from where he lay, in the corridor came the sound of footsteps as a guard made his morning rounds and Jongup knew he could not linger, no matter how much he wished.

 

With a stretch of arms above his head, the soldier rose from the cushioned mattress to dress in his air dried uniform and slipped free from the regal chamber before he could be detected. His footsteps were barely audible on the stone floor of the halls as he twisted through the wing he had grown so familiar with and into a courtyard that stretched between a string of studies, and the secluded corner by which his room was tucked.

 

Jongup dipped his hand into the trickling stream seated at the centre of the space, and relishing in the silence and privacy of such a lonely wing, he cleansed his skin with sun warmed water, washing himself of the impurity of the previous night. The memory of Himchan's voice working together with the sensation of his skilled hands lingered upon Jongup's mind, and he could not stop the smile that tugged at his ruby lips. Whoever knew that sin could taste so sweet.

 

It was not until Jongup had returned to his own bedchamber and re-dressed in freshly washed robes that he realised the hunger that had settled within his stomach and once his hair was tied into a knot atop his head, he abandoned the King's private wing in favour of the bustling kitchens. His palm pressed flat to the simple wooden door that separated the flow of studious clerics of the palace from the cooks and servants who worked their aching muscles to knead dough and pound meat over low fires and clay stoves.

 

Jongup managed to dodge a young servant as he raced with a bowl of fruit towards the door, and rounded a corner into the final room where he knew his favourite cook often worked.

 

“What do you mean you are unsure of where he is.” Hwayah's voice was the first thing Jongup heard as he entered the smaller room. A selection of cooks and maids had gathered before their mistress, her brows furrowed and lips pursed.

 

“Madame, he has not been seen yet this morning.” A round bellied cook said, her arms folding over her chest as she glanced to one of the kitchen-hands standing with his head hung low by her side.

 

Hwayah did not look impressed at such news, “And so? If Daehyun is not here, who shall prepare the King his meal. Neither I nor His Majesty have the luxury of wasted time this morning.” The tone of her frustrated voice reminded Jongup so strongly of Himchan, as did the unimpressed furrow of her brow.

 

“His meal is prepared, Madame, we merely need it delivered.” The cook said, gesturing to a platter of fruit and grain, then glancing to the assembly of her workers surrounding her, “I am sure one of the children working in my Kitchen would be suitable to deliver the King his food?”

 

One glance and Jongup could see all the kitchen-hands trembling in their boots at the prospect of entering such a private space, and facing their King alone. Hwayah opened her mouth to respond when she caught sight of Jongup standing silent in the doorway and her shoulders relaxed, “Not today.” She replied simply, gesturing with one hand for the boy to come to her side. Her fingers were tender as they brushed across his forehead, brushing away loose strands of his hair, “Jongup-ah, will you deliver the King his breakfast?”

 

“Of course, Madame.” Jongup said in simple reply. His need for food could wait. The selection of Valley delicacies was placed in his arms, and soon he was standing alone outside the heavy wooden door that separated him from the King's most private room. His bedchamber. With one hand, the soldier tapped his knuckles three times against the wood and patiently awaited reply.

 

“Who is there?” Yongguk's voice was clear, but hesitant and evident of his unwillingness to allow another into his most treasured sanctuary.

 

“Moon Jongup, Your Majesty.” Silence followed the announcement, and Jongup considered if such lack of response was a dismissal until finally that voice called once more.

 

“You may enter.” With a deep intake of breath, Jongup turned the handle and pushed open the door. The room was no larger nor more grand than the chamber he had taken sleep in the night before beside the Prince, yet the similar furniture was arranged differently. Beneath the window lay a writing desk, covered in spread documents and leather bound books, but unlike Himchan's own chamber, a separate dressing table, and large mirror resided against the opposite wall, with a large chest Jongup assumed housed clothing pressed alongside it. On the far side of the room was a large bed, and in the centre sat Yongguk, with Daehyun's bare body curled against his side.

 

The King was seated with his back against the ebony headboard, his dark hair hanging loose around his naked shoulders while linen sheets were pooled in the lap serving as a pillow for the bare Cook's head. Jongup watched the way Yongguk's slender fingers stroked tenderly through the head of hair he cradled with such affection, while his other hand assured his lover's body would not be exposed to their newfound company.

 

“Madame Hwayah sent me.” Jongup said, glancing to Daehyun's amused smile, then back to his King, “She could not find Daehyun, and was concerned that you would go unfed.”

 

“Hyung you are keeping me from my duties.” Daehyun hummed as he arched his back in a feline stretch, chuckling lowly to himself as the King's amused gaze settled upon him, “You would not wish for me to be punished.”

 

“I gave you ample opportunity to leave my bed.” Yongguk hummed, his palm pressing to Daehyun's cheek and the pad of his thumb rubbing slowly over the full lips swollen in memory of their nights flame. There was something settled in Yongguk's eye, it was the same gaze that Himchan held him in late the night before when nothing existed but the ocean of Himchan's voice.

 

Daehyun must have seen it, too, because he lifted his head from its resting place to meet the King's mouth in a tender kiss, his fingers tracing the shell of his ear, “Very little can rouse me from the warmth of your embrace.”

 

Jongup shifted upon his feet at the display of such intimate affection and looked elsewhere in the room, knowing it would suit him best to leave the lovers to their tenderness, but before he could offer, the kiss was broken and Yongguk was calling for him.

 

“Come, sit.” The King said, gesturing to the foot of his bed with the wave of a hand. Daehyun's legs curled and he pushed himself slowly to sit, exposing the rose-red bite marks littered across the expanse of his strong chest. In silence, Jongup did as he was summoned, lowering himself to be seated and setting the platter of food down beside him. It was easy to ignore the curious gaze of the cook as he watched their King begin to feed himself from the simple arrangement of fruit and grain before him.

 

“Moon Jongup...” Daehyun hummed as he shifted to lay upon his front, exposing his back to the morning air. Less than a moment passed before Yongguk's fingers felt the pull to the exposed skin, and soon digits were brushing lines along Daehyun's naked spine, earning a low hum of pleasured appreciation at such a touch, though he did not silence his curiosity, “You are not surprised.”

 

A smile tugged at Jongup's lips as he spared a glance to Daehyun's questioning eyes, “No.” He said simply. Yongguk lifted a dried persimmon between his thumb and forefinger, offering it to Daehyun's pouted lips in silence, an offer the cook eagerly took.

 

“Who informed you?” Jongup saw the worry that creased Daehyun's brow and flickered through his eyes as he chewed slowly on the offered treat. A fear of exposure would not be unexpected to linger upon the servant's mind.

 

“My eyes, Daehyun-ssi.” Jongup replied, averting his gaze once more as Yongguk took a vacant opportunity to kiss Daehyun's lips clean of lingering sugars. The silence of their King had Jongup sitting on edge, even though the man seemed content to expose such a secret and precious side of his life with his mere assistant. Though he saw that Daehyun was more than willing to speak enough for them both, and Yongguk made no move to intercept or divert the conversation as he listened with attentive ears.

 

“How long have you known?” Daehyun asked, his palm pressing to Yongguk's breast as the man straightened to take more food into his mouth.

 

Jongup pondered the question. He remembered his first meeting with the cook, noticing the informality of his speech, he remembered the way Daehyun seemed to appear wherever Yongguk was, and how the King's tense muscles would relax under the warmth of Daehyun's eyes. It had been clear to him immediately that not all between the pair was as they seemed.

 

“A while, Daehyun-ssi.” Was all he chose to respond, and he noticed how Yongguk's head dipped to conceal a small smile at the knowledge. Jongup's skills of observation were not underestimated after all.

 

The cook watched Jongup's expression carefully as Yongguk pushed aside the platter that lay against the tousled sheets and rose to stand. He grabbed a simple silk robe and brought it over his body, silent in his movements but neither boy voiced question. Outside in the courtyard, a soft trickling of water filled the air, accompanied by the song of a lonely bird perched somewhere upon sloped tiles of the palace roof.

 

Daehyun shifted on the mattress again, this time rising to be seated with the linens pooled in his lap to preserve his modesty from the soldier with whom he now sat alone, Yongguk leaving the room to instead enter the one adjoining. Jongup glanced backwards towards the door while Daehyun began taking food between his fingers, inviting himself to eat the carefully prepared delicacies before him.

 

“It is a wash room.” He said, answering the question Jongup had not asked. Nodding, Jongup's focus returned towards the elder man as his lips wrapped around the pad of his thumb, sucking it clean of fruit sugars, “Any other citizen of Huingol would have many questions after baring witness to what you have seen.” He stated nonchalantly, glancing through black lashes towards his companion.

 

“It is not my place to ask questions, Daehyun-ssi.” Jongup responded, “Who His Majesty takes to bed is of no concern to me.”

 

A sad smile dragged at Daehyun's lips at the statement and he shook his head. The tip of a calloused index finger nudged at freshly cut pear as its sweet juices seeped out to dampen the dry grain it was so comfortably nestled upon, “You speak to me so formally. I'm of peasant breeding, even lower than yours.”

 

Jongup recognised that it was not an attempt at insult, and he smiled, “Your position carries a greater weight than many would know. Not only are you in the King's bed, but also his eye.”

 

“I was.” Daehyun corrected him, finally taking mercy upon the bleeding fruit and sinking his teeth down into its white flesh. He took a moment to chew, as though pondering his thoughts, testing the waters of his mind for clarity and with a glance towards the wash room, he continued, “Yongguk-hyung and I were once lovers regularly. When we were little more than children, but as all do he lost interest, and the blossoms of our youthful passions fell and were replaced by the rigidity of adult duty. I remained his friend and his confidant, but we no longer shared intimacy.”

 

The soldier's brow quirked at the words offered by the cook, following his gaze towards the wash room, “And yet you do not sleep in the servants quarters?”

 

Something in Daehyun's eyes changed as he turned his head, looking once again towards Jongup with his lips dragged downwards by the weight of his sadness, “Every man battles differently with loss. One cannot anticipate what one shall need.”

 

“And the King needed you?” Jongup's tone held no judgement, but the southerner shook his head.

 

“He needed love.”

 

When the King had died, he had left behind many who loved him. Jongup saw the way Yongguk's eyes would grow distant when he was left to ponder his thoughts on late afternoons after working long hours. He noticed Himchan's lips pursing in thought as the corners of his pouted mouth were dragged downwards in a way that mirrored his mother's own expression of her grief. The dead King was beloved, but it was the man himself who truly won the hearts of the family he had left behind. Now Yongguk was left without a parent, and Jongup understood that in mourning, he needed the familiar warmth of Daehyun's companionship.

 

The naked cook shifted on the mattress and nudged the plate of food towards Jongup, his smile sad, “You should eat, too. I apologise I was not there to prepare you breakfast this morning.” His eyes were sincere, and Jongup shook his head.

 

“You had more important matters to tend to.” He responded, taking a small piece of food and biting into it, “I cannot expect you to prepare my every meal. You have your own duties, just as I have mine.”

 

A soft laugh rolled between them as Daehyun's full lips spread over his straight teeth, “I would never mind preparing food for a friend, Jongup-ah.”

 

“Daehyun?” Yongguk's voice came from the doorway, and the cook's head rose once more. Their King emerged with skin glistening in refracted light from where the sun's rays met droplets of cold water. His hair had been pulled back from his head and tied back away from his face, while the silk of his robes hung open to expose the expanse of his fair chest. Jongup took a moment to appreciate just how young he was.

 

“Hyung.” Daehyun responded, gaze focused solely on their ruler. Not that Jongup would believe that Daehyun saw Yongguk as King.

 

“I cannot linger for much longer this morning.” Yongguk's voice was gentle, “And you need to wash. Yejin's wedding is due for noon, and you cannot be present in the state you currently are.”

 

Jongup's head lifted at the mention of the Princess's wedding, this having been the first word spoken of it. Such a grand occasion would usually be at the peak of weeks of preparation, but now they were still in the wake of the celebrated games and had no time to arrange such an event.

 

“Does Yejin wish for me to be present?” Daehyun sounded unconvinced as he rose from the bed, baring his naked body to the warm summer air. Yongguk chuckled and shook his head, arms spreading to take the naked southerner into his silk clad embrace.

 

“You may use my bath to prepare yourself.” Yongguk responded and drew the boy into yet another kiss. Jongup's gaze was averted, and he instead took yet another slice of the food to distract himself from such intimacy. The lovers parted and the cook disappeared into the adjoining room, leaving the King alone with his assistant to dress.

 

Jongup watched as Yongguk donned robes of gold and crimson silk, finished with a deep blue sash tied around his slender waist. His hair was twisted into a knot atop his head, and impaled with a golden pin to secure it in place. Daehyun emerged from the adjoining room, his dark hair hanging damp in his eyes and his fair skin flushed red from the water's heat. He smiled and uttered pretty words of returning to his King's side that night, but as Daehyun left, Jongup could see the sadness that lingered in Yongguk's eyes and faltered the steadiness of his breath as he watched his friend go.

 

Their footsteps fell in steady unison as they walked down the halls, and Jongup voiced his question, “Shall the event be grand, Your Majesty?”

 

Yongguk looked sidelong towards him, his eyes tired and his lips pursed, “Very few know it is scheduled. It shall be me and some others whom Yejin and her betrothed wished to be present, and some who it would be an insult not to invite.”

 

Jongup nodded his head, his fingers curling together behind his back as they wandered their way through the twisting private halls, towards the sun washed square that sat in the centre of Huingol's grandeur, “I am sure it shall be beautiful.”

 

A smile quirked at Yongguk's lips and he exhaled a slow breath, “You speak to me in such a formal tone, Jongup.”

 

“You are my King, Your Majesty. It is only proper to speak to you as such.” Jongup's gaze flickered over to the elder man. He knew that morning he had bore witness to something so private that very few others knew of its existence. It was a sign of Yongguk's trust to expose his relationship with Daehyun to Jongup, and he could not overlook the meaning of such a gesture.

 

“When in private you may call me Hyung.” Yongguk responded just as they came to the wide bronze doors protecting them from the haste of the Palace movement.

 

Jongup did not question, merely offering his King a smile, “I shall, Yongguk-hyung.” The doors opened and they were swept up into the current of people bustling along the halls. If it were not for Yongguk at his side, Jongup could so easily disappear without a trace between rushing clerics and self-important Lords all crushed together in the stream of bodies. People parted ways for their King, though, allowing him space to move freely until they were leaving the palace altogether, and stood together on the open plain of the city square. Puddles of rain water lay warming in the sun, soon to disappear under the growing heat of the endless summer days, while swallows swooped through the sky above their heads. Jongup wondered if they were catching cicadas that strayed too far from the forest and flew slow under the weight of their own bodies.

 

Before them was the temple with doors open wide and a simply dressed monk standing by the entrance. His hands were clasped together as he bowed low to the approaching King, “Your Majesty, welcome.”

 

Yongguk bestowed a half smile to the priest as he followed the man into the wide temple where others had assembled around the grand alter to their sunlight Gods. A tall statue of Noeul was erected at the alters centre, her mane flowing in a non-existing breeze and her stone eyes fixed ahead. As a child, Jongup had been told the statue was one King Sekwan himself had built in replica of Noeul, but he was sure that not even this could do justice to the Chollima's beauty.

 

Standing before the statue was Yejin, dressed in her exquisite silk Hanbok with Lord Kil at her side. His gaze was doting as she spoke in hushed tones to Hwayah and Himchan as they awaited the arrival of the King. Jongup's assessment of the room brought notice of General Kwon's presence alongside that of the royal family, as well as a collection of other Lords and Ladies whom held enough power that Jongup was certain they could not be excluded from such an event.

 

Approaching them was the beautiful Lady Kim, donned in purple silk, with a smile stretching over her painted mouth, “Eunhye-ah.” Yongguk greeted with a smile, his hand settling upon her elbow as he planted a kiss to her forehead.

 

“Yongguk, my King.” She replied. Her voice was as soft as her expression, her dark hair tied back in a simple and elegant knot.

 

“I must introduce you to my bodyguard, Jongup.” Yongguk gestured to him, and he stepped forward, but before he could voice a familiar greeting, she was extending her fair hand to him and smiling.

 

“Aah, the youngest Moon child.” She said, a single brow arched, “It is a pleasure to meet you. Madame Hwayah has mentioned your name to me.”

 

Jongup's onyx eyes found hers and he bowed, taking her soft hand in his own calloused one and pressing the swell of his lips to the back of her palm, “The pleasure is mine, My Lady.” He said.

 

“I regret that you did not join us in viewing the games yesterday, sister.” Yongguk stated, moving forward, the other two falling into step on each of his sides. A soft flush crept upon Eunhye's cheeks and she sent him a radiant smile.

 

“Your Majesty, the sun's warmth was hardly a place I desired to be. Military games are far too harsh for my liking.” She said, Yongguk smiled.

 

“How gentle you must be, Eunhye-ah, and how amusing that the wife of a General is the most avoidant of his craft.” Jongup noticed that by the wall stood Daehyun in simple brown robes, beside the still form of a hand maiden whom Jongup recognised as being Eunhye's courtyard companion. A stream of amusement rolled through him. How humorous that three secret lovers were present to observe, while those they shared intimacy with behaved as though they were nothing more than servants.

 

The ceremony was as simple as it was beautiful. Yongguk observed his sisters marriage with stoic eyes while Hwayah brushed away her ill-concealed tears with the silk sleeve of her hanbok. Himchan was still beside his wife, neither speaking as the high priest placed garlands of red and orange flowers around the Princess Yejin's neck, and a necklace made of twined horse tail around Lord Kil's.

 

Cheers echoed through the small gathering as the joyous pair touched their foreheads together in sealing of their vows, fingers twined together and eyes bubbling with love that had not yet been voiced.

 

General Kwon was the first to stand when the formality was over. His expression was stoney, his eyes focused on their King, “Your Majesty.” He said, arms folding across his chest, “I wish to speak with you.”

 

“My sister has just been married, General. Now is not the moment to speak to me of politics.” Yongguk's tone was firm, and Jongup watched as the General's lip curled. He pushed through those who gathered to offer congratulations to the newlyweds, instead leaving the temple behind while the King watched.

 

“Brother...” Yejin's voice was firm, her head tilted in curiosity, but Yongguk's own serious expression melted into a smile. Lord Kil's arm was settled around her middle, holding her close to his side as she touched her forehead against that of her younger brother.

 

“Congratulations, sister.” Yongguk emitted another sigh, then pressed his lips to her forehead. Flowers were twisted into her hair, entwined with golden wire that decorated her richly, “Shall we eat tonight in celebration?”

 

Yejin shook her head, sparing a glance to Himchan as he came up to stand alongside his brother, “No.” She said, “My husband and I shall leave Huingol and ride to his home by the sea.”

 

“So this is goodbye then, sister.” Himchan said, his brows furrowed. She shook her head and brushed the cool softness of her palm to his cheek.

 

“Only for now, littlest one.” The pet name was warm with adoration as she pressed a kiss to each of her sibling's cheeks. They exchanged bows as they parted, and the two royal brothers were left in the echoing halls.

 

They began to make their way slowly back into the sunwashed square beyond the regality of the dark temple. Yongguk's hands clasped behind his back as he watched peasants and Lords alike crossing the stone square, dodging the few puddles not yet soaked in by the sun, “Not quite as grand as your wedding, brother.”

 

“This wedding was not for show.” Himchan replied. Jongup was not sure if it was an attempted joke, or whether the Prince's patience was wearing thin, “Jongup-ah, it is good to see you well.” He said, his eyes turning to focus on the young soldier.

 

Jongup bowed his head and once more felt the touch of Yongguk's palm against the back of it. The touch was affectionate, gentle, “The day is young.” He said, drawing Himchan's attention back to him, “There is much I have yet to attend to.”

 

“I understand.” Himchan nodded with a bow of his head. Jongup did not turn back as he set off across the square behind his King, but he could feel Himchan's eyes hot on his back until he disappeared into the dark of the Palace corridors. What neither of them noticed, was Daehyun watching.

 

*

 

The sun was dipping below the mountains when Himchan found him. After a day that had tried his patience in more ways than one, he had decided to lose himself in solitude by wandering quietly through the empty halls of the military wing. Most were closer to the kitchens at this time of evening, or feasting in the great hall for the nightly dinner; others had left the palace altogether to return to the humble stone homes illuminated welcomingly with warm fire light.

 

Himchan had no where else to return to. His home was as vast as it was cold, with nothing warm or familiar about it other than memories of a distant childhood he still held so close to his heart. That summer he had lost a father, and that afternoon he had lost a sister. He did not want to think about how with every kiss he gifted to Jongup's skin, he was losing his brother.

 

He found himself walking quietly down a familiar slender corridor between store rooms packed full of weapons and shields unused during peaceful times. Before him, the hallway opened out into the gravel practice yard crushed between the wing and the wall, and in the centre stood his diamond.

 

Jongup held a sword in hand as he moved slowly through a routine. He lunged, then parried, his brow furrowed in concentration as the tip of his blade sunk into the hay stuffed body of the dummy tied against a wooden stake. The hilt was released and the blade swayed side to side in the breeze and the soldier took a step backwards, feet crunching on the gravel ground.

 

“Jongup...” Himchan said. When Jongup turned to face him, the smile that spread over his teeth was bright, radiant and in the dying of the light, Himchan could not understand how such beauty could exist. The world did not deserve it, _he_ did not deserve it.

 

“Hyung.” Jongup stated in response. He took a step over the gravel square just as Himchan came towards him, and soon they were close enough to touch.

 

Himchan's palm pressed to his cheek, feeling the warmth that radiated from it in the wake of the exercise he had been performing. A chuckle of amusement rolled forth from his chest while the pad of his thumb wiped at a droplet of sweat that beaded against Jongup's skin, “I regret that I only saw you briefly today.”

 

“We both have duties to tend to.” Jongup responded, turning just slightly and nudging his nose into the hand. Himchan watched, Jongup smiled.

 

“I'm sorry I left this morning... Before you awakened.” The words were gentle and Jongup could hear the regret set deep in every syllable, “I feared that if you woke up, I would never be able to leave your arms.”

 

“Neither would have I.” Jongup replied, his gaze steady and strong as it fixed to Himchan's own. It was the Prince who turned away to break the contact, not even he could handle such intensity. His focus shifted to the sky as it deepened above them, barely more than a glow of the sun remaining.

 

“Did my brother keep you occupied today?” Himchan asked, withdrawing his hand back and pulling away for just a moment. The air between them felt so comfortable, as though neither one needed to speak and yet they would remain content.

 

Jongup did not respond right away as he stepped back over the gravel floor, brows furrowed in thought. He considered his memories from that morning while pulling the blade he had used to practice from where it skewered the innocent dummy against the pole. The image of the King tangled in bed with the southern cook was clear in his mind, but still he turned to the Prince and shook his head, “No more than usual.” He stated, crossing the field and sheathing the weapon, “Meetings, the ceremony and such. I merely stay by his side when he requires it of me.”

 

“Your days would be far more enjoyable if you were my bodyguard.” Himchan said, emitting a low chuckle. Jongup smiled in response and cast a look back, shaking his head.

 

“I would be a risk to the Kingdom, General.” He responded, “You would be too distracted to protect us from advancing armies.”

 

“Let them come.” Himchan replied. The summer breeze drifted through the air holding such warmth that it was as though the storm had never happened. No scent of rain lingered, nor was the ground still wet, and yet they felt as though they had been cleansed clean as they stood there alone and together. There was something about summer with its long days and warm nights where everything felt like a dream, and time stretched long and steady. Days arched beneath the summer sun, while nights were hot and filled with a desire for revelry.

 

Jongup looked up and smiled at the stars shining like silver dust strewn over a raven blanket. Some glistened, while others were just faintest smudges, too far away to distinguish from one another. Himchan watched as a pink tongue ran across a drying lip while his diamond's onyx gaze glanced between celestial giants, “They're beautiful.” he said. Himchan disagreed. They were nothing compared to the divine constellations that resided in Jongup's eyes.

 

Once more, Himchan's palm pressed against Jongup's warm cheek but this time he did not hesitate before drawing him into a kiss. Their mouths met in a tender brush, before they sealed together in a need to taste, to remind each other just how intoxicating every push could be. Jongup's fingers found his jaw, while Himchan allowed his own to slip back and cradle the skull of his love to him, keeping them as close as they could be.

 

Neither could hear anything beyond the gasps for breath between them to the open corridor and dimly lit palace beyond, and such distraction was as much a curse as it was an answer to every prayer.

 

“You are a fool, Kim Himchan.” Daehyun's voice was clear as it severed between them and broke them apart. Himchan turned first, his eyes wide and his arms tightening their hold and gathering Jongup tight in against him, where he could not come to any harm.

 

The cook stood in the doorway, his brows furrowed and eyes serious. Himchan would not have expected anyone to come in to this part of the palace so late into the evening, unless... “Did you follow me?” He asked, voice tense with anger, and Jongup could hear, fear.

 

“Of everyone you could bed in this palace, you chose the King's bodyguard.” Daehyun's voice did not waver as he advanced upon them, lips pursed.

 

“This is not your concern.” Himchan snapped.

 

“This is treason.” Daehyun bit back.

 

The prince scoffed and turned his head, “Bedding the King's servant is considered treason now, is it?” He asked, shaking his head. His fingers had curled into the black silk of Jongup's robe, holding on to him as though he might be pulled from his side at any moment. Daehyun opened his mouth to speak, but Himchan raised his hand in command of silence, “This is not of your concern. What you witnessed was _nothing_ that you shall ever repeat.”

 

Daehyun's nostrils flared, “Himchan-”

 

“No!” Himchan cut him off, standing tall and advancing upon his childhood friend, “You are not in a place to tell me what to do. You are not my friend, you are not my brother. You are a servant, a _peasant_ and you will keep your mouth shut. You will not so much as speak to Jongup, you will not so much as _look_ at me.”

 

Jongup stepped forward and curved his hand over the back of Himchan's shoulder. Beneath his touch, he felt some of that tension fade, but the Prince did not back down, “I am not asking this of you, Jung, I am commanding it as your Prince, do you understand me?”

 

A heated silence passed between them, but eventually, Daehyun nodded his head, “I understand, Your Highness.” He ground back through gritted teeth.

 

“Leave us.” With that final command, the cook withdrew and disappeared into the darkness of the halls, retreating to lick his wounds. Himchan's shoulders slumped as he watched his childhood friend walk away, and he feared that with the blade of his words he had lost yet another whom he so dearly loved.

 

With the blowing breeze, Jongup wound himself around Himchan. Palms pressed flat to his stomach and his nose nudged gently at the dark hair still tied formally at the back of his skull, “Hyung...” he murmured, voice soft, riddled with concern.

 

“I am fine.” The prince responded.

With a nod of his head, Jongup pulled away and instead slipped his hand into that of the man by his side and gently began to pull him towards the waiting corridor.

 

“Come, then.” He voiced through the dark. His words echoed, Himchan smiled. “Come to bed.” Himchan did not argue as he followed Jongup's every step towards the sanctity of the bedchamber where he could lay and forget all the loss that plagued his dreams. With naked skin warm against his side, the worries melted away. It was not quite happiness, but it was near enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are starting to get goinggggg. I promise everything that seems unimportant will be important later ;)   
> Thank you SO much for reading, as always! I cannot wait to share with everyone what comes next xo


	8. Chapter 8

Himchan could not concentrate. A dull ache was rumbling through his skull, leaving his vision fuzzy and the light of day far too bright than he deemed necessary. Papers were spread out before him, tangled between maps and lists of what was needed across the peninsula. Lords to the south called for twenty royal soldiers to be sent as aide in simple troubles of uprising farmers, others required swords and shields made by Huingol's skilled blacksmiths in replacement of those that had grown battered with age in their rural homes. It was a lot to think about, and a lot to have under his control.

 

Early that morning, Himchan had been awoken by Jongup stirring in his arms. The soldier made an attempt to slip free of the Prince's tight hold without waking him, but Himchan could not help but be roused as the soft linen sheets were pulled from his body, and the warmth of his companion disappeared from his side. In the dawn light he had rolled to his side and dragged the boy back into his arms, murmuring words of needs and wants, and arguments against submitting to the coming of day. Jongup had smiled and kissed him like sugar.

 

Morning now felt so distant as the weight of reality burdened Himchan. It dragged down his shoulders and knotted his brow, bringing lines of age across a face that had not yet seen enough summers to warrant them.

 

The Master General wished he could go back to an hour when what mattered most was the warmth and familiarity of Jongup's skin against his, or to when he sat upon a stool by the deep bronze basin and watched as Jongup's slender fingers brushed over his flesh to cleanse himself in the warm, scented water Himchan had called for. There was something so intimate about watching a lover bathe, and now he would do anything to once again see how the hot steam lifted through the air and weighed down Jongup's dark hair, having it stick against his heat-flushed cheeks.

 

A knock came at the door, and Himchan lifted his head to clear away images of the naked diamond, “Enter.” He said, voice gruff as his fingers pressed to his forehead in an attempt to ease away the oppression of pain. By now Jongup was long gone, dressed in indigo silks and accompanying the elegant King in his daily routines. Himchan could never be sure when he would be held in his arms again.

 

The door was pushed open and the servant boy, Minjong, crossed the threshold, a tray of clay cups and sliced fruit in his hands. As steam rose from a simple pot in the servant boy's hands, Himchan felt hope that his aching skull would soon be soothed.

 

“Your Highness.” The boy greeted, setting the tray down before the Prince and carefully setting its contents upon the table.

 

“Thank you, Minjong-ah.” His tone held such relief that the servant boy was smiling and immediately pouring the cup full of hot tea.

 

“Are you unwell, Your Highness?” The question caught Himchan off guard, but with a glance he saw the innocent concern in the young man's eyes, and merely waved it off with a shake of his head.

 

“My mind is merely tired with the work that must be done. It is of no worry.” His slender fingers curled around the clay cup, drawing it closer and inhaling the fragrant scent. Although the servant boy's task was complete, he hesitated as the Prince took in the first sip of his drink, watching the full lips that parted around the cup.

 

“Was... there another thing you need, Your Highness? To relieve you from your stresses?” The offer was clear as day, and Himchan would be a fool to miss it but he hesitated in his reply. Mere weeks before the offer would not have needed to be made as he sat alone with the beautiful boy before him. Minjong's skin was fair, and his features pretty in a way that would have him easily mistaken for aristocracy on first glance. When he blinked, his long lashes fluttered and his pert mouth maintained a red tint and any man would be a fool to say they did not find him beautiful.

 

To Himchan, Minjong had always been a rose, but even the soft roundness of crimson petals were nothing in contrast to the chiselled edge of a strong diamond. Boys like Minjong had an allure in their tender beauty, but Jongup held such divine strength like the powerful crystal. He was as terrible as he was beautiful, and Himchan had no doubt that his exquisite magnificence was enough to bring even the strongest man to ruin.

 

For the first time, Himchan no longer felt drawn to the red flush of Minjong's cheeks, nor the way his enticing tongue darted out to wet the supple lips that the Prince knew tasted sweet. The satisfying flavour of sweetened wine could bring pleasure through Himchan's body, but he knew the only thing that could quench his thirst was water.

 

“No.” He said aloud, lips spreading into a soft smile of apology, “Not today. Thank you for bringing me this.”

 

Disappointment was clear in the boy's expression, but he did not argue, merely bowing low just as the study door was once more pushed open and the burly form of General Kwon was standing in the opening. A sour taste swelled upon Himchan's tongue at the sight of the man, and he did not voice another word to the departing servant, instead returning his gaze to the papers before him.

 

“Master General.” Kwon greeted with a flourished bow, one the Prince was certain took on a mocking flavour.

 

“Kwon.” He responded simply. Nimble fingers curled around the cup of hot tea, the aroma meeting his nose and having his mouth water eagerly in anticipation for the much needed beverage.

 

It was the man before him who watched on with dislike as the young prince took his first sip. His eyes closed and full lips parted as the warmth slid down his throat, ignoring the presence of his guest as he relished in the taste. Kwon stood still before his desk, unmoving as Himchan took liberty with wasting the time of the much elder man. He simply could not resist bringing forth the frustrated curl of the General's lips.

 

“What brings you to visit me today?” He asked, setting down the cup and licking across his mouth for straying droplets.

 

“I believed it was time I should come and pay my respects to the second most powerful man upon the Peninsula.” Kwon carefully stepped across the study, his gaze tracing the spines of leather bound books that lined the walls while his fingers nudged at curled scrolls stacked upon shelves, “We are lucky that our bastard Prince was the man chosen to be in charge of Huingol's vast armies, and those who we are allied to across the Peninsula. I cannot imagine a man better suited for the role.”

 

Kwon's smile was tight, and Himchan had to raise his cup to obscure the smirk that threatened to become too obvious upon his face. Of course none could deny that it had been a great shock to the General and his brother that he, leader of the elite, had not been chosen as right hand to the King. Though Himchan knew the idea of giving the hot-tempered man such power would have their father rolling in his grave.

 

“Thank you, Kwon. I am glad to know of your approval.” Himchan's tone was smooth, his eyes curious as he looked up at the man before him. The Kwon brothers had an agenda of their own, and it was an agenda Himchan was sure would have been brought to light in the event of General Kwon's promotion to Master General, but as the role had been given to the Prince himself, very little had been spoken of it since. Himchan assumed now was when that changed, “And what brings you to see me, other than your pretty words of praise?”

 

Kwon's head turned and his eyes met Himchan's, lips pursed as he knew that no avoidance could really withdraw Himchan's focus from his vague intentions. The man stepped towards the desk, his arms folding across his chest, “By the north-eastern border, the mountains are filled with towns and people who do not align their minds with the crown. They pay no tax to Huingol, nor do they offer soldiers in allegiance with us. Your father allowed them to go about their lives unchallenged, but it is time we take action. We have no proof that they are not offering their lands to Zhonghua. The mountain passes provide perfect routes for soldiers to cross the border undetected, and by distancing ourselves from them we do not know what it is we are allowing to enter our Kingdom.”

 

“They are peaceful people, Kwon. They pose no threat to Huingol, or any other citizens on the Peninsula.” Himchan responded, his lips turned down into a frown. “They have inhabited those mountains since long before the age of Sekwan, before Noeul's light graced our lands.”

 

“If they offer us nothing, their property would be better used by good people who would pay the Capital taxes, and protect our borders.” Kwon replied.

 

“We cannot drive people from their homes.” Himchan replied, “My father allowed them to live in their seclusion as they have for many years, just as we continue on by our traditions. They do not require anything from us, just as we do not require anything from them.”

 

“It is the crown's land, at least allow my soldiers to observe their-” Kwon tried again, but Himchan lifted his hand in command of silence.

 

“I will not encourage violence on the peninsula, nor will the King.” His brows were furrowed, “Sending troops to their villages will insight war. We will not drive them out like vermin, General. Until they pose a threat, we shall continue to coexist.”

 

“Master General, please-” Himchan's jaw clenched and his eyes cast a gaze of fire towards the power hungry fool.

 

“You will silence yourself, Kwon, before you can voice a mistake that I will not overlook.” The tea would be growing strong in the brewing pot by now, and Himchan took time to refill his cup with the darkening liquid. He in took a deep breath and drank, giving time for Kwon's temper to calm. As a bitter gulp slid down Himchan's throat, Kwon exhaled a deep breath and pressed a smile onto his thin lips.

 

“I apologise.” The words were gritted through teeth, Himchan doubted they were true.

 

“My brother is not a tyrant, General, and I will not encourage him to be.” He watched as Kwon nodded in submission, a sense of pleasure rolling through him at that.

 

“Forgive me, Your Highness.” Kwon replied, “I merely remember you and your brother as children, racing between rooms with little care for the nonsense of politics. I need to be reminded of the men that you have become.”

 

“We have become the men our father raised us to be.” Himchan replied, his right brow quirked with curiosity as the General spoke. It was true, Kwon had held his position since before the royal brothers had been born, and the Prince deemed it safe to assume that losing the position he had always worked towards to a man a third his age would have been a blow to his pride.

 

“I think of those summers many years ago, when you bonded with my niece on the occasions that she came visiting with my brother to the capital.” The tone of his voice brought forth a snort of amusement.

 

“Kwon Seonmi did not _bond_ with us.” He replied, lips curled at the mention of the girl, “She was a spoiled and bitter child, and she has grown into as vile of a woman as I anticipated.”

 

The elder man's jaw clenched as he looked back to Himchan, who leant back in his chair lazily, “She is a distinguished woman of status, there has been talk of her hand being accepted by your brother in marriage.” The bite of Kwon's tone held the build of a temper once more while Himchan just smiled.

 

“She will be no sister of mine.” He stated, lips pursing, “As much as I enjoy speaking with you, sir, time is not a leisure I am blessed with these passing days.”

 

A late summer wind drifted through the door that sat open to the neighbouring courtyard, bringing with it the dried wing of an unlucky cicada. Himchan watched as the slender veins and clear membrane crumpled as it slid light as a feather across the tile floors and settled in the centre of the room where it was crushed beneath the retreating General's boot. Before long, summer would be over, and winter would descend.

 

*

 

There was something in the air that smelled different to Jongup as he climbed the steps from the low lying stables to the palace. During the summer months, a flavour of green and life lingered in the breeze as it folded through open windows and dragged debris in its wake, but now with the changing seasons, it too was no longer the same. He glanced down at his hands, noting the muck and grime that had made its way beneath his fingernails, discolouring his skin.

 

Boyeon had been pleased to see him, and even more appreciative of the apple gifted to him upon their reunion. The strong beast was nearing his fourth year and would no longer be the young colt Jongup had shared such affection with in his youth. Though he guessed it was fitting, Boyeon becoming a stallion not long after Jongup himself became a man, the two of them having that summer entered a world so foreign to the one they had grown in before. It amused Jongup now how spoiled Boyeon had become after months of being tended to by the Valley's most dedicated hands. He was sure that in no time the animal would no longer stand for the simple wipe-downs after a ride, or a stray piece of fruit Jongup managed to snag from the kitchen when Daehyun was pretending not to watch.

 

Through Jongup's first summer in the Palace, Boyeon had remained his most trusted and constant companion, and he could not be more grateful, but only limited hours could be spent by his side. As Summer progressed, Jongup began to build a balance between the time he spent by the King, and the hours he was gifted to spend alone, offering the ruler himself privacy in his dealings with those he was closest. As Jongup stepped into the current of bodies moving through the Palace, he knew Yongguk was by Daehyun's side and he had a few more hours to himself.

 

With ease, the soldier managed to slip silently from the crowds and into an empty courtyard. This side of the palace was vacant now since the departure of the King's sister, and few servants came through at this time of day. Jongup found the silent expanse of empty rooms comforting, that even in the midst of the Kingdom's heart, he could find peace. A pool sat in the centre of the yard, mirroring all similar spaces in the palace and the boy dipped his hands into the water, cleaning them of the stable's filth. Months ago he would have cared little for the grime on his skin as he lived his life content to be surrounded by the muck of the modest stable back in his city home, or deep in the forest, but maybe much like Boyeon he too was growing accustomed to a pampered life.

 

With a furrowed brow, he pressed the nail of his thumb beneath that of his index and middle fingers, attempting to drag out any lingering discolouration to be washed away by the trickling water. Footsteps shuffled on the tiles behind him, and he turned his head.

 

“Moon Jongup.” Jung Eunhye greeted, her rose lips spreading into a soft smile. Her hand maid was by her side, silent in her watchful patience as Jongup pushed himself to stand.

 

He wiped his wet hands on the front of his silken robes, bowing low to her in greeting, “Lady Kim, it is a pleasure to see you.”

 

“We did not anticipate meeting anyone in this part of the palace.” She admitted to him, her fingers twining together at the front of her hanbok. With these rooms empty, Jongup assumed they came here in search of some privacy, a place where they could share in their affections under the warm heat of the fading summer sun.

 

“Then we both ventured here with similar intentions.” His lips curved into the warmth of a smile that matched with hers, and he noticed the tension melt from her shoulders, and that of the silent maid who stood by her side. Jongup did not know her name, he did not think it his place to ask.

 

“In a vast palace, one must take advantage of the spaces where they can be alone.” Eunhye glanced over her shoulder and something in her gaze softened, “Or not alone.”

 

“I do not wish to intrude upon you, my lady.” Jongup said, stepping towards the door, an offer to give them that which they so desired. Eunhye hesitated at his offer of disappearance, but she did not send him on his way and instead tilted her head to the side.

 

“Moon Jongup...” She repeated his name, familiarising herself with each character, each letter that made up him. Her gaze was thoughtful as her lips twisted in consideration, then continued, “Do you read?”

 

“Not often, Madame.” He replied.

 

“But you can?” She continued.

 

“I have been educated to such an extent, Madame. I do not read frequently for my own pleasure, but I am capable.” He elaborated further, awaiting her explanation of her own intentions.

 

The lady stepped slowly across the courtyard, then lowered herself to be seated upon the dirty ground with the fine silks of her skirts surrounding her. The maid stepped closer, her eyes widening at such an indelicate action for a fine woman, “My lady-” She tried, but Eunhye shook her head.

 

“My Aejong cannot read.” Eunhye said, her hand extending to the timid girl, who took no more invitation before lowering herself down beside her mistress, “I sometimes read to her, if time offers us the leisure to.”

 

“What do you read?” Jongup asked, watching the women as their bodies moved to be pressed close. Eunhye's fingers began to stroke through the raven strands tied at the nape of Aejong's neck, while the maid turned to gaze up at her mistress with a look of adoration.

 

“Sometimes poetry, sometimes histories, sometimes the stories I was read as a child. Whatever takes our fancy.” Eunhye replied with a smile. Jongup merely watched as the young lover's infatuation with one another blossomed, until Eunhye turned to him. She pulled a small book from pockets hidden away in the folds of her skirts, “I very rarely am given the opportunity to listen, Jongup-ah, and your voice reminds me of running water. Will you read to us?”

 

A raven landed on the edge of the tiled roof and called out his mournful song to them as Jongup took the leather bound book from the Lady's hands. He lowered himself down at the edge of the small stream and opened it to a worn page lined with words of faded ink. It seemed to him that the book was old and well loved, and it was one he too was familiar with.

 

The tip of his index finger brushed along the first line of words written neatly upon the page and he began to speak as Aejong lowered her head to rest in the tender lap of her adoring mistress. He told of mountains that towered high into the sky and framed a distant city that lay in a far off land, across vast oceans of crystal blue where everything was exotic and strange. Kings fought across slopes of desert sands that stretched as far as the eye could see, while mysterious women concealed their elegant beauty from the many suitors willing to die for their hand. From yellowing pages, Jongup described golden cities with domed roofs and monstrous creatures, unlike anything that could ever be found on their peninsula home, that lived in damp caves so formidable that even the bravest of written heroes were able to face them. His words formed the flavours of foreign spices piled high in majestic bazaars, the shape of fine daggers and precious jewels hidden away from the prying eyes of those who searched for them.

 

Eunhye's silence was comfortable as Aejong hung from his every word, desperate to know the fate of a desired Princess, who was taken by a greedy lord into the bowels of a dreadful fortress.

 

“And so?” Aejong asked, her round eyes widening as Jongup turned the page to the start of a new chapter. Eunhye smiled and glanced down to her love.

 

“No more today, my dove.” She hummed, and Jongup thought the young maid was going to argue against her mistress through her desperation to know more. It caused the soldier pause as he relished in the luxury of literacy, a skill he so often took for granted. To Aejong, and so many peasants less fortunate than he, the ability to read was a kind of magic woven between rounded circles and carved lines. To think that so many could see no meaning in what to Jongup held an entire world.

 

“Unnie...” Aejong voiced, her lips turned down into the faintest frown. Eunhye's fingers stilled in her hair to instead brush across her pouted lip with the pad of the index.

 

“We cannot take all of Jongup's time, Aejongie-ah.” Eunhye's laughter was like welcome rain, her eyes almost disappearing in the sunshine of her smile, “But maybe if we are lucky, Jongup will come and read to us again?”

 

The soldier lowered the book down into his lap and nodded his head, “If my lady and her love so wish it.” He said.

 

“Do you enjoy the story too, Jongup-ah?” Eunhye asked, her fingers returning to their rhythm through the maiden's raven locks.

 

“It is one I know, Madame. My mother read it with me when I was a boy, it has always been a favourite of mine.” He admitted softly, setting it aside on the ledge he was perched upon, “Is it one you like in particular?”

 

Eunhye nodded her head with a sigh, “Very much so. Himchan introduced the story to me when we were young, long before we were to be wed.”

 

The mention of the Master General had Jongup hesitating, his gaze curious as he asked, “Were you friends as children?”

 

“There is only so much room in Huingol, Jongup. My father worked very closely with the King, and my mother had once been friend to the Queen, we often played together when we grew up, or spent Summer afternoons in the studies and libraries reading books. His Majesty, the current King, usually preferred to keep to himself, but Himchan was far more vivacious. We would read these stories then he would drag me out into the courtyard to play. He would insist that I was in need of rescue and would always pretend to be the strong knight, rushing to my side.” She laughed once again and shook her head, “I think it was those stories that taught him much of what builds his character today. He would lay down his life to protect those whom he loves, and I am sure he would take responsibility for any harm that came to them.”

 

Something in Jongup's chest tightened at the image of a young Himchan, so eager to protect, to be the hero in a fabled tale. The soldier licked his lips and sent her a smile, “It is hard to imagine our serious General such a mischievous and playful child.” He provided the words, but he did not believe them as he could see each description so clearly. That boy still resided deep inside of Himchan.

 

“My my do I have many a story from our shared youth.” Eunhye shook her head and sighed, “I think our parents encouraged our friendship in those days, it was always their intention to have us marry. Much has changed.” Something in her expression changed and she glanced down to the love in her lap, “I believe it is time for us to part ways for today, but I do hope you will read to us again?”

 

“It would be a pleasure to, Madame, if you should ever wish for my company.” He pushed himself to stand as he glanced down at her.

 

“I would never resent the company of a friend.” She bid him farewell with a smile and he disappeared into the shadowed corridor beyond.

 

*

 

Steam clouded the air in scented tendrils as Yongguk's arm rested on the lip of the bronze bath. His right hand swished through the hot water, watching it lap at the edge of the tub that held Daehyun naked and relaxed. The cook's head was tilted back, and his cheeks were flushed from the heat rising as he soaked his aching muscles languidly in a luxury no other of his standing would be awarded. The King was content to merely watch in a comfortable silence as a familiar naked chest rose and fell with the intake and expel of steady breaths. If he did not know better, he would believe his lover to be asleep.

 

Sometimes he felt amusement at the thought of how different things had become. Years before would have seen them in exactly this position on a lazy summer afternoon. Yongguk's body would be wrapped in the simple silks of a robe to conceal his nudity, while Daehyun's own, scrawny and tan, would be on display. Daehyun had never minded showing, Yongguk had never minded looking. Now it was moments such as this that reminded Yongguk just how different things were. Daehyun's chest was toned and strong, his arms muscled from his hard work kneading and pounding temperamental dough, Yongguk himself had become someone so different he barely remembered who he had been.

 

Yet here they were, slipping back into patterns he had long since thought were far from his reach. It was a warmth so achingly familiar, and one he knew could not last.

 

“What are you thinking about?” Daehyun asked, his eyes cracking open to peak at his oldest friend. His lips twitched upwards into the faintest hint of a smile, his hand moving from where it rested against the edge of the bath to brush his warm and wet fingers over the slender length of his King's wrist. Yongguk watched as trails of beaded droplets were spread along his skin, he did not know if it was the heat of the water or that of Daehyun's touch that burnt him so.

 

“Nothing.” Yongguk responded. He could see in Daehyun's dark eyes that the cook did not believe him, and he smiled, “Nothing worth discussing.”

 

The southern boy's lips curled and he closed his eyes again, humming as the King dipped his fingers beneath the water again and began to trace them slowly over the angles of his bronze chest. Through his childhood, Yongguk had been kept indoors to prevent the sun from darkening his complexion. His grandmother had said to him _“Prince's are fair, farm boys are bronze. No future King can look like a peasant.”_ The value of skin tone was solidified as nonsense to him the first time his tongue touched the tan expanse of Daehyun's flesh.

 

The tip of the King's finger traced down Daehyun's breast and his eyes followed. Familiarising himself once more with the Southerner's body had been an honour he had not anticipated being rewarded again in this life.

 

“Do you have time to linger?” He asked, glancing upwards as Daehyun's eye peaked open once more.

 

“I am here for as long as you wish it.” He replied. The slant and angle of his ocean voice had faded so much since he was a boy, young and afraid in the face of a city much larger than anything he had seen before. Barely any accent remained, but still it was there, hiding between rounded vowels and sharp consonants, revealing its self here and there.

 

“If you offer me thus, I will never let you leave.” Yongguk's smile did not reach his eyes.

 

Footsteps echoed in the hallway outside the neighbouring bedchamber, and without a knock the door was pushed open. The King's head lifted and he cast a glance back over his shoulder with furrowed brows and turned down lips as Himchan's voice called, “Yongguk?”

 

The sound of splashing water filtered through the open partition, and before Yongguk could voice argument, his brother was standing in the doorway. Himchan's surprise was not well hidden as he lay eyes upon his brother and friend in their private sanctuary, but not even that prevented him entering the room, arms folding across his chest.

 

“I thought I would find you in here.” He said, glancing to Daehyun. The cook watched him with a guarded expression, though did not make a move to cover his nudity, “Though I expected to find you alone.”

 

“Am I needed?” Yongguk asked, his spine straightening and his fingers curling to grip the edge of the bath. The serenity of their space had been cracked, and it placed him on edge.

 

“No.” Himchan replied. The air between them held a distance that Yongguk did not know how to travel. With another glance to Daehyun, the Prince stepped backwards from the door, “I came to speak to you.” The implication of his tone was clear, and so with a final brush of fingers to skin, the King withdrew from his beloved companion and followed his brother in to the main bedchamber.

 

“You know as I am King, you should not be able to give me instruction.” Yongguk said, he was not sure if he was intending to joke, but Himchan offered him a half smile. Now that they stood so close, he began to notice the lines that had formed around Himchan's mouth, and the way his cheeks looked thin, but what struck him most was the light that shone in his eyes. Even though the Master General seemed to have aged in the mere months since his elevation, he seemed so alive with joy that Yongguk was shocked he had never before noticed it.

 

“It is about General Kwon.” Himchan said, his brows furrowing again and his face setting into seriousness.

 

Yongguk quirked a brow and tipped his head to the side in curiosity, “What of him?”

 

“He wishes to advance North, to reclaim the mountains on the border with Zhonghua.” Himchan's tone was hushed, as though Daehyun knowing of their words would pose a threat to them. For someone who readily bedded half the palace, he was being surprisingly mum, “He seems to be convinced that they prevent those borders from remaining secure.”

 

“General Kwon is a fool.” Yongguk brushed the argument aside, his lips pursing as a foul taste settled upon his tongue.

 

“That he is, but he is a fool with ambition. His thirst for dominance will become a thirst for war, and with the elite under his command, we cannot trust him.” Himchan lifted a hand and rubbed the pads of his fingers against the creases in his brow, exhaling a slow breath.

 

Yongguk was silent as he pondered the words, then nodded, “I shall think on what there is that can be done. He needs to be observed.” Himchan dipped his head in agreement. From across the room, the sound of water splashing met them, and the Prince turned his head.

 

He looked towards his elder brother, and Yongguk saw him hesitate, consider and then speak, “I thought you and Daehyun were the past.” His voice was softer, barely more than a whisper, “All these years...?”

 

The King shook his head, it was his turn now to rub at the creases settling in his brow, “No.” He said simply, “I ceased our relationship three summers ago but when Father died I needed...” his words faded, and Himchan nodded. They both knew what he meant. There was a kind of comfort that could only be provided through love. When their father had died, Yejin had turned and settled into the arms of her beloved Lord, to whom she was later wed; Himchan took refuge in the physical passion of maids and servant boys but Yongguk had no where else to turn. He did not have a wife, nor a lover, he did not have a mother with whom he could share his grief. All he had was a Kingdom that now relied on him to rule with strength and justice, and an old friend whom he had long since lost as his lover.

 

“I... Never understood.” Himchan said, his eyes soft as he spoke, “You and Daehyun... You ceased so suddenly, on the first day of Autumn. I never understood why.”

 

The vulnerability that nestled in Yongguk's chest had his voice taking pause. He did not know how to respond, or what there was that he could say other than the painful and honest truth. Dark eyes lifted and met with those of his younger half-brother, “Father found out. He deemed it unbecoming of a Prince to take a peasant boy as his lover.” His tongue felt heavy, it was a truth he had never admitted, not even to Daehyun, “He asked for me to stop, and I did.”

 

Himchan stared for what felt like a long time, as though he were assessing every twitch of muscle on his brother's face before he voiced, “You are in love with him.”

 

Yongguk tensed, then relaxed as it was said aloud for the first time. To Daehyun, their passion had never been more than a Summer of fun and fire, and Yongguk would never wish for him to know anything other than that simple truth, “I'm not.” The King responded and it was true, “I may have been then... But I am not now.” Himchan looked at him as though he did not believe him, but still Yongguk insisted, “A King does not have time for love.”

 

Another splash echoed between them, and Yongguk turned his head, itching to return to his dearest friend's side. Himchan understood and nodded his head, his throat thick as he saw the melancholy linger in his brother's eyes. Maybe if their father had not interfered, things would be different now, maybe they would never have ended their passion and given it chance to blossom into love.

 

“I shall leave you here.” Himchan replied, lips twitching. He bowed his head and did not wait for a reply before slipping free of the chamber and closing the door behind him.

 

Yongguk's robes dragged across the floor as he returned to the steaming bath, taking in the sight of Daehyun's bathing body flushed and beautiful in the diminishing steam. His head turned and his raven hair tumbled into his eyes, “Is Kwon causing issue?” He asked.

 

The King lowered himself back down to where he had been seated, his head nodding slowly as he slipped his fingers once more beneath the water and sunk them into the soft fabric of a wash cloth that had sunk down to the bottom of the tub, “He needs to be watched.” He said, dragging the cloth over Daehyun's skin, “I do not trust him.”

 

Something changed in Daehyun's expression and his full lips parted. Yongguk could see he had something to say, but he was hesitating, as though unsure if he were allowed to speak.

 

“What is on your mind?” The cloth dipped lower, and Daehyun parted his thighs for the familiar hand to disappear between them, brushing against sensitive skin where it was most welcome.

 

“I know someone.” The cook admitted, his tongue flicking out over his lip, “He is from the North, much like the Kwons themselves. He is of peasant birth, but he was raised by his maid mother and squire father in the court of a Lord, so although his blood carries no worth, he is familiar with the life of aristocracy. Peasant enough to be a servant, but possibly of enough status to reach the standards of the Kwon brothers.”

 

Yongguk nodded his head in thought while his brow furrowed, “And can we trust this boy?”

 

Again, Daehyun hesitated but then his lips curved into the faintest hint of a smile. He nodded, slowly at first before his head turned and his eyes met with those of his King and friend, “Yes. He is... Someone I know well, and someone I know can be relied on and trusted. He holds a precious place within me... I am certain he would serve you well.”

 

The hand stilled beneath the water as he heard the words and the bitter taste of guilt swelled up onto Yongguk's tongue. In all of his greed and selfishness, he had not stopped to consider that maybe Daehyun's heart was no longer free as it had been those summers before. No one as spectacular as the Southerner could remain untaken for long.

 

“What is his name?” he asked through a tight throat.

 

“Yoo Youngjae, Hyung.” Daehyun's voice was gentle, his hand slipping beneath the water to find that of his King. Their fingers laced together, and he squeezed but it was not enough to calm the racing of Yongguk's heart.

 

“I shall speak with him alone.” He said, lips pursing in thought as he turned deep eyes towards the naked cook, “And... I will no longer call for you to join me in my chamber.”

 

Daehyun did not respond, he merely looked down into the water. Yongguk felt his brows furrow at the sight and his lips quirked into a faint smile, “You could have told me, Daehyun-ah.” He said.

 

The cook nodded once and pursed his lips in thought, “I don't wish to keep secrets, especially from you. I never meant to.” Something shifted in his gaze once more, a guilt dragging in his eyes. The King knew there was something unsaid and he watched as the words ate at Daehyun's stomach and threatened to erupt from his mouth.

 

“There is something else.” He prompted, unease settling in his stomach. Daehyun's eyes lifted and his brows furrowed in concern as he admitted his thoughts aloud.

 

“I saw Himchan... With Jongup.” He said.

 

Betrayal sliced through Yongguk's stomach like a knife, his tongue feeling dry. Himchan had _told_ him to his face that there was nothing between them, “And what were they doing?”

 

Again, Daehyun looked downwards, his lips pursing, “Kissing... touching.”

 

Yongguk rose from his seat and his fingers curled in against his palm, clenching his wet fist tightly as the anger boiled within him. Of all across the palace that Himchan could help himself to, he chose to take the one person who was supposed to stay most loyal to the King's side. Jongup's entire position was to stay true, he had sworn to give his life in protection of their monarch, and yet he instead chose to priorities the affections of a flirtatious Prince instead. The lie was not only an insult, it was a danger to the Kingdom, and to Yongguk's life.

 

“I'm sure you think me so naïve to _trust_ my brother to keep his word.” Yongguk released a bark of bitter laughter, his head turning to lay his gaze once more upon Daehyun. The cook shook his head and reached an arm carefully from the tub. His fingers laced between those of his dearest friend once again, refusing to let go.

 

“I do not.” Was his response. Tension fell from the King at the warmth of such a tender touch and it brought a sadness through him, reminded that this may be the last time he would ever be with Daehyun in such a nature. Neither of them knew what to say, but that was alright because as Yongguk's lips pressed against Daehyun's forehead he understood that even the sweetest moments must come to an end.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooooo this chapter was all edited and ready, so I thought why wait? Okay a handful of definitions, as per usual ;)
> 
> I forgot to say a few chapters ago but the name Eunhye translates roughly to grace, while Aejong translates to Love or Affection.
> 
> Zhonghua is an old name for China (and makes up part of the current official name of the country 'Zhōnghuá Rénmín Gònghéguó'), and since I have used the name Joseon for my version of Korea, I chose Zhonghua for China.
> 
> Thank you all for reading!! xo


	9. Chapter 9

Jongup's palms pressed flat to his thighs as he walked down the empty corridor. He rubbed them slowly against the fabric, wiping away small flecks of stone that had embedded themselves in his skin as he sat by the flowing stream with the fair lady and her precious love. It made his heart warm, he must admit, the sight of Aejong reclining in her mistress' lap, accepting each loving touch as though she thrived off it. He wondered where she had come from, or if she had ever before felt the loving touch of someone who adored her so thoroughly. She was the sun, moon and stars in Eunhye's sky and it was a crime they were not allowed to share in their happiness publicly. He understood, yes, why they had to conceal their affections, but could it be right to mask such strong attachment?

 

The soldier rounded a corner and stepped into a courtyard. Himchan stood at its centre, his spine straight and his eyes focused on the water that flowed and evanesced in the fading warmth of daylight, while a cool breeze whipped around them and dragged stray hairs across his face. His brow was tight with tension and his lips turned down into a frown, while his strong arms folded across his chest and Jongup thought _No. Love never should be kept secret._

 

“Hyung.” Jongup voiced the word aloud, his head tipped to the side. Himchan looked up, their eyes met and the General exhaled.

 

“Jongup-ah.” He said. Crossing the courtyard felt like it took an hour, even though Jongup merely took four steps before he was standing chest to chest with the man who's gaze reminded him of the storm clouds that towered above the mountains. He tilted his head and lifted a hand, guiding those raven strands out of the stormy eyes, then warming a cheek with his palm.

 

“What is wrong?” He asked. The prince shook his head, his lips twitching.

 

“I'm letting the gravity of the Peninsula to weigh upon me today.” Himchan turned his head and pressed the tip of his nose into Jongup's palm. Jongup watched how each muscle of his face were soothed, and his lips pressed forward to kiss the warmth of his palm, eyes closed. He did not know what had ben brought upon Himchan that day, but he could feel the exhaustion radiating from every inch of his skin, “Will you lie with me tonight?” The voice wasn't much more than a murmur, his tired gaze finding Jongup's.

 

“Yes.” The response came without hesitation, and the hand withdrew from Himchan's face to instead press palm to palm, and fingers laced together. They managed to walk silent through the courtyards and halls, into the dim room that remained their sanctuary. No one could touch them, not here, where linen sheets and feather down pillows created an island, surrounded by an ocean of open tile. Only they could exist in the dark, framed by their passion and enveloped in their love.

 

As the door swung shut, Himchan's shoulders relaxed and he exhaled a deep sigh, his fingers already working at the tight knot of his robes. It was Jongup's hands, gentle as they stopped his movements, “Let me...” He murmured. With care, he guided Himchan to stand still before the bed and his fingers carefully and swiftly undid the restraints of his clothing, letting the belt fall and his robe to open. The General's eyes closed and he simply _felt_ each and every touch that Jongup bestowed upon him. He felt the weight of his robe fall from his body, soon followed by the linen undershirt. Then, the front of his pants were untied, but before they fell to around his ankles, his beloved knelt down upon the floor and removed his shoes, setting them side by side neatly by his bed. Soon, he was naked with goosebumps rising on his skin as the late summer breeze filtered through the wide room and around them.

 

When Jongup kissed him, the world disappeared. Maybe it was something he should be used to by now, but still with every brush of mouth against his, every pressure of fingers to skin drew forth the tension to be replaced by glowing warmth. He wasn't sure when Jongup had undressed, but soon their bodies were pressed intimately close upon the mattress and the familiar burn was developing between them. Hands searched and Himchan arched into the sinful pleasures that overwhelmed him, it was not often that he allowed control to be taken by another, but with Jongup's body wrapped around him, he could never think to protest. Every rock down, every press of hot mouth to wanting lips, every languid arch of spine and indent of fingertips had it building and building.

 

“ _I think I love you,”_ Was what Himchan wanted to say as Jongup whimpered into his ear, _“I think I love you,”_ He couldn't find the words, the time, the moment when it would not be caught in the intensity of pleasure, when Jongup would _believe_ him. _“I think I love you,”_ he wanted to chant it as Jongup drew him to the edge twice before taking mercy. _“I think I love you,”_ the more he thought them, the more true the statement became, and as they lay naked and slicked with sweat, panting into the night air, he could not hold the oxygen in his lungs for long enough to admit what he had long since known to be true.

 

Jongup twitched and groaned, his cheeks flushed and his lips spread into the faintest shadow of a smile. He rolled over and hitched a muscled leg over Himchan's hip beside it, his palm brushing slowly over his chest and settling right above his heart, feeling every thump and beat as its rhythm slowed back to normal. Himchan looked down and was met with a head of sweat-matted hair as he drew that body in closer to him. _“I think I love you.”_

 

“Jongup..?” His tongue felt heavy, and his lips sore after being kissed until bruises formed beneath the skin. The soldier's head lifted, his soft eyes searching, understanding, expressive.

 

“I know, Himchan.” Was what he said. The prince wondered if he did know, and if he felt the same. He did not ask, however, as Jongup dragged the blankets over their naked bodies to protect them from the descending chill. He guessed that could wait until light.

 

*

 

When dawn broke, the rain began. Clouds had formed over the mountains during the night, but as the sun peeked sleepily over the horizon, the first droplets fell. It was unlike the storm all those weeks before, it was not powerful or dramatic but instead steady and relentless, and it marked the ending of a long Summer. Himchan was awoken by Jongup pressing in closer to his side, searching for warmth and security that another strong body could provide him. That was something he had noticed during the nights they had spent together. Jongup was always so stoic, never wishing to expose his emotions, but while asleep he expressed needs and wants entirely differently. During the height of summer, when every night was thrumming with a steady heat, Himchan would awaken late at night, drenched in sweat and blanketed by the beautiful body of his bed partner, Jongup having been so eager in his sleep to press closer and closer until he was all but on top of the elder man.

 

Himchan never minded. On those nights, he would entertain himself by stroking shapes along the curve of Jongup's spine, mapping between scars and moles to create an artwork that was truly nothing in its beauty when compared to the skin that made its canvas. Sometimes Jongup's eyes would flutter and his pouted lips would part over the crooked pearls of his teeth, _“Himchan?”_ He would ask, his voice heavy with sleep and brow furrowed in worry. The Prince would smile and kiss his forehead, each eye and down the slender arch of his nose, drawing forth a tired chuckle, and earning a weak push to his shoulder. Some nights Jongup's body would awaken hot and needing, his searching hands dragging Himchan forward and urging him to once more bring their bodies together. Those nights were always his favourites, when they could make love or what seemed like hours, with nothing to disturb them but the starlight twinkle across the rich tapestry of their sky.

 

Himchan glanced down at the nose that nuzzled in against his chest. Jongup's brows were furrowed, his lips pursed and the General wondered what it was he dreamt of to have his face so severe in sleep. His fingers reached out and stroked through Jongup's black hair, messed with sleep, then kissed over his forehead. The words exchanged the night before still lingered in the back of his mind, maybe to be discussed when Jongup returned with him to consciousness.

 

Neither of them could anticipate that such a conversation would not be had, not as the door to Himchan's bedchamber slammed open and their King was standing, glowering and terrible in its frame. The loud sound startled Jongup awake and he blinked against the harshness of daylight, while Himchan dragged his slender body in closer, his arms tightening their hold with the intention to protect.

 

“Of all the people who I thought might betray me... I must say my brother was not one of them.” Their King's voice was cold as the first snow, his jaw tight. Himchan swallowed hard, feeling his half awake partner tense in his hold at the sound of the iron voice.

 

“I did not betray you.” The Prince responded, Yongguk scoffed.

 

“You _lied_ to me. To my face.” He said, glancing fire-eyed at the naked soldier as he slowly pushed himself to sit, drawing up the linens in an attempt to obscure his obvious nudity. “I must be able to trust Jongup with my _life,_ and yet I cannot even trust him to keep his legs shut.” The words sliced through the air, Himchan's nostrils flared with anger.

 

“Do not speak of him like that.” He snapped in return. Jongup was not as close as he wished him to be, it felt as though he was slipping from his hold even though the boy was mere inches from his side.

 

“You can treat him as your whore, but I cannot name him as such?” Yongguk's brow quirked.

 

“He is not a whore.” Himchan bit back, nails digging deep into the flesh of his palm, “And I would _never_ treat him as though he were.”

 

Yongguk's jaw clenched as he stepped closer to the bed, and its two naked inhabitants. The King bent over and sunk his fingers into the discarded silks of Jongup's robes, tossing them haphazardly at the soldier as he turned back towards him, “Get dressed.” he all but snapped, but Himchan would not hear it.

 

“He does not have to leave.” He said, his arm pressing to Jongup's front, preventing the boy from moving forward or taking his clothing. Their King cracked.

 

“Are you so determined to collect every body in the Palace?” he asked, voice fraught with anger, “You successfully fucked your way through all of your own attendants so now you have moved on to mine? Do not think for a second that I do not know of your affairs with Minjong, or my other servants. Of course once their bodies have so graced your bed you must move on to my bodyguard. What is next, Himchan? My stable hands? My Generals?”

 

Beside Himchan, Jongup went unsettlingly still. Every muscle in his body was seemingly relaxed, but his face was void of emotion as he sat like a statue, waiting for their King to continue in its revelation. Himchan glanced to Yongguk, his own anger building and fed with panic, “Be quiet.” He said, voice hard.

 

It was then that Yongguk released a strained laugh, his face disbelieving, “My oh my, little brother have I exposed a secret?” He asked, noticing the way Himchan's lips were pressed into a thin line, his face pale, “Have you been convincing Jongup that he is the _only_ one to be taken to bed? That you aren't fucking every attendant in Huingol through the nights when he isn't by your side?” Himchan's entire body was growing rigid, his arm tense as it remained across Jongup's front, preventing his movements, “Does he hold you close and fuck into you deep, Jongup? Does he tell you that you are more beautiful than the stars? Does he say that you are the one he loves?”

 

“Shut your mouth.” Himchan growled out, but Jongup remained silent and cold, even as his uncertain eyes darted towards the Prince, then returned to the King.

 

“You have never been special to him. You have never been his chosen one. There is nothing he could have said to you that has not already been spilled over every pretty thing that walks these halls. He has used you just as he has used many _many_ others.” Yongguk continued, his words sinking into Jongup's flesh like claws to rip through him and Himchan knew that with every word his brother spoke, Jongup was slipping away.

 

The fire of rage built in Himchan's chest as Yongguk stepped back, and he followed, pushing to his feet and grabbing at whatever robe was closest to him. He wrapped the silk around his form and reached for his brother's arm, forcing him around to face him, “Do you wish for everyone to suffer like you do? Are you so depraved in your self inflicted misery that you wish to harm all others?” He bit, but Yongguk shook him off.

 

“You are selfish, Himchan! You cannot have everything that you wish, every _one_ that you choose.” He started from the chamber, moving towards the courtyard beyond. The door opened with a slam and the brothers stepped out into the rain, “Every brat needs to be told _no._ You can't just take anything that you want with no regard for duty or consequence.”

 

“Is that what this is about? Teaching me a lesson?” Himchan asked, scoffing as he shoved his brother back. Jongup had thrown on his own clothing and followed the brothers into the light of day, hearing how their voices echoed off the slanted roofs around them as they headed towards the libraries beyond. Yongguk entered first, but Himchan would not let him go without a fight, “Or is there something else, hm brother? Are you so angered that we lied or is this born from jealousy rather than distrust?” The King turned as he stood at the centre of the wide room as he watched the slow build and eruption of his brother's anger. “You want Jongup for yourself but you cannot stand that I have already marked him with my seed. He spreads himself for _me_ and it drives you mad that your little brother marked that territory first.”

 

“You are a fool if you think I am so low as to choose my own servants as my lovers. You cannot mark them from me like property.” Yongguk bit back, but Himchan was not done and the Prince stepped closer with hands clenched at his sides.

 

“Even when Daehyun was bending over for you every night you were too _weak_ to keep him.” His voice was cold, “You say our father was the one who dragged you from Daehyun's side, but the truth? You weren't strong enough, and you lost him out of your own failings. Daehyun never loved you, and even now as you pine away he still does not. You spoiled your chance, and you cannot spoil mine by taking what I have long since claimed.” The venom of Himchan's words left silence in their wake, but still Jongup watched as a calm rage trembled through Yongguk's form.

 

“Get out.” His voice was grit through his teeth as Himchan stood panting before him. The anger was starting to fall from the younger brother's body as he realised the words he had said, how he had chosen something so vile to bring down as a weapon against his Hyung.

 

“Yongguk...” Himchan breathed the name out, but it was for none.

 

“I said get out.” The ice of the King's voice had Jongup's body standing frozen by the door, “You will not speak to Jongup, you will not _look_ at Jongup. You are forbidden to so much as _think_ of him, or else I will have your head for treason.”

 

“Brother...” Himchan tried again.

 

“Get out!” Yongguk's voice rose in volume and echoed through the empty room. Birds took flight from where they were perched upon the surrounding roofs at the sound of the bellowing tone. Himchan stepped backwards, fleeing from the heat of his brother's fury but not before his gaze met that of the soldier whom mere minutes ago was held so safe, so _loved_ within the warmth of his embrace. His eyes searched to meet those onyx gems, but Jongup avoided him, his lips pressed together in a thin line and his fingers tense and twisted together in his hurt. The words that Yongguk had spat to the boy were damaging enough, but Himchan knew his own vindictive attacks on his brother had sealed the fate of their love. When he fled the room, the door slammed behind him, and the King and his guard were left in silence.

 

Yongguk moved slowly across the room, his jaw clenched. Jongup watched as his fingers curled around an ink pot that sat upon his desk and threw it as hard as was possible against the opposite wall. Black ink splattered like blood across the stone, dripping down onto the tiles and slipping between fragmented clay, razor sharp and upturned.

 

It was then that the King's fiery gaze turned to his guard, his brows furrowed, “I could have you killed for lying to me.” He said.

 

“I know, Your Majesty.” Jongup thought that this was not the time he would be able to use the familiar title their King had so kindly asked of him in the weeks before.

 

A growl echoed between them, “I _should_ have you punished for this.”

 

There was something hollow settling inside Jongup's chest. He felt dirty, used by Himchan in the way he was learning Himchan uses all. The soldier swallowed and looked up, “I was a fool, Your Majesty. I shall accept whichever punishment you deem fit.”

 

Yongguk emitted a low bark of laughter, his lips curling. Some of the tension was leaving his body as he turned his head and watched as Jongup's eyes settled at his ruler's feet, accepting all the rage that was laid upon him, “You were naïve.” He said, brows furrowed. Jongup watched as Yongguk took in a deep breath, eyes thoughtful until he rose a hand. For a moment, Jongup thought to wince as his eyes closed and he awaited the harsh weight of a punishing smack, but instead was met with a voice, “Go. Wash yourself clean and dress for the day.” Jongup was confused by the leniency, “You are no use to me dead. Your life was promised to me in service, and that is how it shall be spent. Do as I say before I change my mind.”

 

The soldier shifted on one foot, making towards the door when he heard the beat of approaching footsteps. A shout was called, then the clatter of armour as the runner was joined by the footsteps of a rushing soldier. The door was thrown open and both Yongguk and Jongup watched as a cleric entered, followed by a guard. The man bowed low before their King, panting for breath before extending out a rolled parchment with one hand, his face flushed from exertion, “Your Majesty.” He began, “This came minutes ago, from the North.”

 

Yongguk took the parchment and gazed over each word, his lips pursed in thought until he once more stood straight, “Send for my brother and call the Generals to council. Jongup, come.” He began towards the door as the cleric darted once more from the room, rushing away towards the secluded chambers of the King's illegitimate brother.

 

In a sweep of silk, Yongguk began down the hallway, his black hair still tied messily at his nape, having not the luxury of time to present himself appropriately. As word was sent, Generals would already be gathering and there was no chance to dress.

 

Very few were milling through the halls at this hour in the morning, but those maids and servants parted ways for their determined King and his young soldier companion. In passing, Jongup wondered how many of these beautiful youth had reclined upon the same bed he had awoken in that morning, how frequently it was them curled between the sheets in his place. His eyes met those of a beautiful girl, no older than twenty and he decided he did not want to know, or else he would be driven mad. Never before had he considered himself a jealous man, he did not wish for that to change now.

 

Before them, the doors to the council chamber were opened by two guards on duty, allowing the King and his assistant to enter. At the centre of the room had assembled a few of the most senior generals, Kwon among them, while others continued to filter through the open door.

 

“Your Majesty.” General Moon said, his brows furrowed in concern as he took in the sight of their stone faced King. Jongup was still unclear of the words written upon the parchment, but he did not believe it his place to know as he instead took position behind Yongguk's chair, assessing those in the room. Most were dressed simply in robes they would wear within the comfort of their own homes, and all whispered amongst themselves in greeting and curiosity. Opposite Yongguk, sat General Kwon dressed in a deep indigo robe with his hair tied back at his nape and behind him stood a beautiful boy Jongup did not recognise.

 

“I apologise for bringing you all from your beds and homes so early in the morn, Generals.” Yongguk began, his fingers curling close into his palm, crumpling the parchment in its wake.

 

“What has happened?” Another man asked, leaning forward with hands clasped together. Yongguk opened his mouth to speak when the door was pushed open and Himchan stepped in. His expression was serious, and the ends of his hair damp from a too-brief bath.

 

“You would not think to start without me, brother.” The prince greeted in a tense tone, his gaze meeting that of the King. They held contact for a long time, until their ruler continued without comment.

 

“To the north east of Huingol lie the mountains that make our border with Zhonghua. For years we have lived in peace with those who reside in the mountains. They do not consider themselves of Joseon, nor of Zhonghua and we keep ourselves separate from them.” Jongup's gaze flicked to where General Kwon was straightening in his seat, leaning forward to listen with more care. The beginning of the King's speech had the General's attention and it left Jongup unsettled. Yongguk continued and lifted the letter, “In this letter Lord Shin, a Lord who is faithful to Huingol and who's compound lies at the foot of those mountains, claims that those villages no longer remain neutral.”

 

A rumble of voices began, but the King rose his hand to silence them, “Two days ago, a village was burnt, its occupants wiped out and he fears those guilty of such an act will advance to the base of the mountain. If these villages are removed, it would leave the pass open for soldiers and troops from Zhonghua to make their way onto our peninsula and march on Huingol. He calls for aide.”

 

“Why should it be our responsibility to fight for the safety of villagers who do not hold us in their allegiance? Lord Shin has troops of his own to keep himself protected, so why should we waste valuable resources on mountain peasants?” One man spoke up, and a hum of agreement echoed through the room.

 

“Just because a life has no worth to _you_ General Cho, does not mean it has no worth. If Huingol's armies only worked to save lives from which it could benefit, it would be truly frightening indeed.” Jongup's own father voiced, his lips pursed with distaste.

 

“I must agree with our dear General Moon.” Kwon spoke up, his fingers twisting together, “It would only benefit the peninsula to send troops from the King himself to see what is happening on our border. I would be glad to take a selection of my elite to be your eyes, Your Majesty.”

 

Jongup tensed as he heard the man agree with his father, something he did not believe possible. “General Cho this is not only a case of protecting lives, this is the security of our border, and that of the Peninsula as a whole,” Yongguk's lips were pursed and Jongup was sure he had been thrust into a uncomfortable situation. To refuse Kwon's offer would be an open declaration of mistrust, and Yongguk had to decide what was less of a risk – sending Kwon, or insulting him. After a moment of silence and thought, the ruler nodded his head, “Ride tonight to Lord Shin's compound. From there you will be able to visit into the mountains, and to look for yourself on what threat may be hidden away there.” His voice was taught, lips twisting at the satisfied smile spreading across General Kwon's thin mouth.

 

“Your Majesty, thank you.” He said, pushing himself to stand and making his way with his own assistant towards the door. It was Himchan, however, who spoke before the General could leave the room.

 

“General Moon shall accompany you.” He said, voice hard with command.

 

“What?” Kwon asked, his brows furrowing as he turned to Himchan, who leant back in his chair, fingers pressed together in thought.

 

“If there is a threat it would do the capital better to have two of our most skilled Generals out to protect us. General Moon will ride with you tonight with a selection of his most favoured soldiers, and you shall select members of your elite as well.” Himchan shifted, Yongguk watched.

 

“Master General I assure you the elite-” Kwon began, but Himchan cut him off.

 

“The elite answer to you, General, not to Huingol. I believe our threat shall be assessed better by a variety of our men.” He finished.

 

Kwon turned to glance at Yongguk, who merely nodded once, gesturing towards the door, “Go. Prepare your soldiers and your horses, both of you. I have already said, you leave at nightfall.”

 

When Kwon made to exit this time, he was followed by Jongup's own father, and their footsteps were swallowed by the sound of rumbling conversation as all those around them began their movements. It was Yongguk who rose as others dissolved into conversation, “You are all dismissed.” He said, steering from the room before Himchan could speak to him, as he so looked like he wished.

 

Jongup followed the King close behind through empty halls, his gaze watching the silk twisting across his back. Passing the kitchens, their clerics, maids and servants who had began their daily duties, Jongup spoke, “Your Majesty, would you wish for me to call for anything? You have not eaten, I can ask Daehyun...”

 

“Do not ask anything of Daehyun.” Yongguk interrupted. Finally they entered into the library where they had stood only that morning. The ink pot had been cleaned, leaving only the faintest shadow of ink staining across the golden tiles. Yongguk lowered himself to sit upon the divan that sat in the room's centre, his eyes closing. “What I wish for is peace, Jongup-ah. Peace upon the peninsula, peace within my Palace and peace within my mind. I do not know which will be the most difficult to achieve.”

 

Outside, the rain continued to fall and when Jongup glanced to the window he noticed the first leaves atop the tall tree had started to fade and turn, preparing to fall and welcome the changing season. All Summers must end.

 

*

 

Jongup did not get the chance to slip away until it was early afternoon. Yongguk had required his presence far longer than usual, during tedious meetings and hours spent alone in one of the King's studies. Jongup guessed this was how it would be from now on, and how it should have always been if the King had not been so lenient from the start. Not long after their King ate his midday meal, he dismissed Jongup, claiming he wished to spend some time reading alone, and the soldier slipped free from his private wing.

 

If he chose to return either to his own chamber, or to one of the more secluded areas in the silent wing he ran the risk of running into Himchan, or one of his most favoured servants. Jongup was unsure which would be worse. Instead, he left the palace altogether and entered the rain soaked city beyond, following the worn path towards the expanse of the wide stables that housed his most beloved colt.

 

The sky had taken mercy upon the Valley's inhabitants and slowed in its downpour, but as the cool breeze did nothing to wash away the mass of grey clouds that towered above the mountains, Jongup was sure it would not be the end of the rain. He guessed it was fitting in some ways, that the day he lost the Prince was the day that Summer ended. Years ago he had read stories of passionate Summer love that faded and fell with the leaves of coming Autumn. Winter had little time for such things, he supposed even if he had began to wonder how else he would keep his body warm throughout the dark months without Himchan's skin. Every time he imagined the falling snow, it was Himchan by his side, arms secure around his middle to ensure comfort and protection from the ice that lingered upon the sharp winds. Without realising, he had began to anticipate the Summer mornings fading into Autumn, when he would feign sleep so as to not need to leave the security of bed, and in turn the steady reliability of the Prince's affections.

 

Jongup guessed he was thankful for Yongguk's exposure of Himchan's true intentions, maybe it would protect his heart from later damage. The night before he had been so sure that those three pretty words would tumble forth from their Prince's golden mouth, but maybe he was wrong after all.

 

Before him the stables opened up and bustled with movement. Even during the rain and the imminent coming of Winter's chill, Jongup was sure Huingol's most prized possessions remained even more cared for than their King himself. He slipped silently between stable hands and preparing soldiers as they carried around feed and tack for the well-adored beasts to instead make his way to the stall by the King's, where his Boyeon resided. Upon his approach, he was met with a welcoming whiney and could not stop how he smiled at the sight.

 

“Hello my love.” he murmured, his head tilting to the side as Boyeon crossed his pen to stand just before him. His nose snuffled as he nudged into the extended palm, emitting an equine snort followed by a matching grunt. Jongup laughed, pressing his forehead to that of his beloved, “I know, I know. I missed you, too.” He voiced.

 

To his left stood the raven form of the King's own prized Mare, strong in her stance and avoidant of all humanity that surrounded her. Weeks before he had attempted to gift her an extra treat he had brought for Boyeon, but the Mare would have none. A stable hand had laughed and informed him she offered not so much as a glance to anyone beside the King, and that he had been lucky to be offered the luxury of her gaze. Jongup was sure Boyeon was destined for the same behaviour after so long living pampered in this pen.

 

With care, the soldier climbed to the top of the surrounding gate, his hands reaching out and accepting the colt's head into his lap, stroking along the side of his gorgeous face, “Maybe I shall be coming down to visit you more often now, my darling. During winter we shall ride through the Valley, hm? I know you love the snow.” His words where whispered, though he knew Boyeon could hear him. They always did understand one another.

 

The colt stood taller, his head lifting again to nudge at Jongup's strong chest and the soldier smiled sadly, “I don't think we will be accompanied by anyone, my love. I have been naïve.” Another snort, bringing forth an amused smile, “I know you do not think me so, but it's true. I've made foolish mistakes, been blinded by my own selfishness. I have pursued a married man, and even as I fall I am discovering that he has grown more precious to me than I ever was to him.”

 

Slim digits traced the rounded arch of a caramel ear, then scratched gently at the base, “I never thought myself to be one whom would find distraction in a man, but I guess even a disciplined soldier can be a fool in love.”

 

Behind him, horses were lead to be saddled and strapped with weapons as they prepared to vacate the Valley and go north. Jongup wondered if that would be him, had he not been chosen to serve their King. Sitting astride a armoured stallion with a weapon in hand was what he was born to do, not to be pampered between the golden walls of the Palace. He had grown up sleeping in the family stable, hunting in the Forest, training on the wide practice yards under the watchful eye of his commanding general. It was laughable to see him now, reclined between linen sheets fit for a King, dressed in silks far beyond his wealth. Everything felt too tight, too perfect, he lived a life unsuited to someone of his blood. This was not who he was supposed to be.

 

“Jongup?” The familiar fondness of his Father's voice had him turning. The man was wearing his General's uniform, his hair pulled into a bun atop his head, surrounded by the tight form of his forehead guard to prevent any stray hairs from falling into his eyes. Across his chest was crimson silk, with a leather breastplate atop it, and heavy black boots strapped around his feet. Encircling his waist was a strong leather belt, a sword hanging faithful at his side, and his hands were curved around the rains of his Mare, “What are you doing here?”

 

“His Majesty wished for privacy. I am visiting Boyeon.” Jongup replied, watching as the Mare's head dipped towards the ground, snuffling at the gravel around her hooves. Jongup shifted upon the fence and dropped back to his feet, facing his Father who nodded slowly, brow creased in seriousness. Jongup tilted his head, “How long until you leave?”

 

“It is five hours until sundown, just enough time to gather our things.” He said, smiling slightly, “We are making sure the Horses are fed and washed before they're saddled and laden with all that we need.”

 

“How many men are you taking?” Jongup asked, looking beyond his father and towards the soldiers milling about.

 

“Ten of mine, ten of Kwon's. Both of your brothers accompany me as part of Kwon's most favoured of the elite.” He said, his voice filling with pride, “The first time they shall be riding out as part of Huingol's army. You would be with them, I'm sure, if you were still a soldier.”

 

“I am still a soldier.” Jongup responded, as though on instinct. _I should be going with them. That should be me._

 

General Moon's smile was gentle as his hand extended, brushing his palm against his youngest son's cheek, “And a fine one, my child.” Jongup turned his head, avoiding the warmth of his father's touch. The Mare beside them emitted a sound, and the General gazed down towards her, “When we leave tonight we shall ride for two days and two nights before we arrive at Lord Shin's compound, and my Dabin here is not as strong as she once was.”

 

“You should not ride with her if you do not think she is capable.” Jongup said, his hands brushed over her mane, she shook him off, “She would be better use with Mama at home than she would be on a battle field.”

 

“I do not know another Horse that I would trust like I trust my Mare.” the General replied.

 

“Take Boyeon.” Jongup said, glancing back to the Colt, “He is reliable and strong, and he is young. His body will be capable of the long ride.” The boy emitted a low chuckle, “I believe he will be eager for it.”

 

“But he is yours, my son.” his Father responded. Jongup swallowed and looked again to his father, eyes firm as he said.

 

“You can return him to me when you come home.”

 

Once more, the palm touched his cheek and smoothed tenderly over the strong curve of his jaw, “I will return, my love, this is simply a scouting mission, nothing more. Huingol is my home, there would be no use for me anywhere other than here.”

 

Jongup nodded, his eyes cast down, “Where are Jongin and Jonghwan?” He asked.

 

“They are with your Mama, at home. She wished to see them before we left.” General Moon stepped forward and pressed his lips to his youngest child's forehead, then withdrew, “I must go, Jongup-ah. If I am to take Boyeon with me, I must prepare him for the ride.”

 

With a nod of his head, Jongup stepped back. With warm hands and loving whispers, he bid farewell to his beloved colt, leaving him with the promise of seeing him soon.

 

When the procession prepared to leave the city gates, rain fell once more from clouds stained by the light of the setting sun. Jongup stood atop the walls and watched as the horses made their way one by one onto the green plain beyond the city limits and he remained, soaked to the bone, until each last figure disappeared like ghosts between trees and faded from sight.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaaand so yeah here we go. I ain't gonna give you any hints, but lets just say- things will now happen.
> 
> The only definition I have is: Dabin which pretty much means 'many, well-bred' and is often understood as 'Very Well-bred'
> 
> Hope you enjoyed the chapter, I admit this one was hard. I'm excited for what comes next, as always!


	10. Chapter 10

Jongup stood in his bedchamber. It was small compared to where he had taken much of his sleep of late, with no decoration other than the plain clay horses sitting upon the simple desk. A fine layer of dust lay across each of them, having remained untouched since the first night he lay in the luxury chamber of the Master General. The bed was as small as it was undecorated, something Jongup had not even given a second glance upon his arrival, but in the past few nights spent tossing and turning upon that mattress, he could not find himself capable of resting. He blamed this on the changing seasons, or his lack of calm with his father and brothers so far away, and no word having been heard in the near week since their leaving Huingol. He did not allow his mind to consider that maybe the narrow mattress was no longer right, not after so many nights held secure and warm in the arms of a man whom he loved, and whom he had once believed loved him.

 

The thought had Jongup snorting, then shaking his head. _Love_ was a word that crossed his mind frequently of late, but how could he be so sure it was thus that he felt for the Prince? He had never _loved_ before, he had only ever read stories where the whole notion was spoken of as though nothing else could be more wonderful. If this was love, Jongup thought, it was nothing like how the books described it. It didn't feel like a cool breeze on a Summer day, it did not feel like the first blossoms of Spring. To him, it was more akin to the relentless cold of a bone-chilling winter, and like the leaves that died and fell to earth. If the tightness and hurt that sat hard as stone in his chest was how it felt to be in love, he hoped never to be again.

 

Slender fingers folded silks neatly into piles. He had spent such little time in this bedchamber that he felt out of place, but with Boyeon servings his father up North, there were very few places within the Palace he could take refuge, especially in his attempts to avoid Himchan. Since the evening in the practice field almost a month before, he had not even spoken to Daehyun and the loss of his only true friend left him secluded and more alone than he would have realised.

 

When all his clothing was arranged and stored back safe in its chest, he turned instead to the few possessions he had brought with him. Upon his pillow sat a book, which he moved to the dusty desk, shifting a clay stallion to make room for the tome. Briefly, he wondered how the Horses would look instead perched upon the windowsill, where the midday light could bathe their stone bodies in warmth, but his thoughts were interrupted.

 

A swish of silks sounded at his door, accompanied by a voice, “Jongup-ah?” He lifted his head and saw the Lady Eunhye, donned in robes of red trimmed black, decorated at the hem with pearlescent white flowers. In her arms she cradled a bouquet of freshly cut chrysanthemums, while her rose lips spread into a smile, “Forgive me for disturbing you.”

 

Jongup shook his head and offered her the weak spread of a tired smile. His door had been left gaping open, it was his own fault that such privacy had been breached, “It is no matter, My Lady.” He said, “You are welcome in.”

 

With a dip of Eunhye's head, she crossed the threshold, looking around he chamber curiously. The soldier was sure that such quarters would rarely attract her attention, and she gazed around almost in curious wonder at the simplicity of the space. Her fingers brushed over the dust coated desk and she spared a glance to Jongup, “Your chamber is nice, Jongup-ah. Not many servants are awarded such a large space. The King must favour you greatly.”

 

“I am very lucky, My Lady.” He responded, his hands clasping behind his back as he watched her continued assessment of his room. With care she set down the bouquet of flowers to instead touch her fingers along the elegant arch of a Horse's spine, feeling the smooth handiwork that had gone into the clay.

 

“These are sweet...” She hummed with a smile, tipping her head, “Are they significant to you?”

 

“They were my father's strategy figures, My Lady.” Jongup replied, “I always liked them as a child, and my father gifted them to me on my leaving for the Palace.”

 

“General Moon is your father, yes?” She asked, brow quirking at the question, “There are five horses here.” She gently touched the head of each creature, “One for each parent, and each of the three sons?”

 

Jongup's own mouth twitched into a smile, “Yes.”

 

Eunhye withdrew her hand from where it felt the clay to instead turn towards Jongup, “I have not seen you around the Palace much in the past days, Jongup-ah.” She said.

 

“I have been spending more time at His Majesty's side of late, and with my father and brothers travelling North with my colt, I do not have much reason to leave my chamber.” Jongup said. Eunhye hesitated, her eyes surveying his face for a long moment before she voiced.

 

“I actually come to ask a favour of you, Jongup-ah.” She said, stepping away from the desk and towards the soldier.

 

“A favour, My Lady?” His lips were pressed in a thin line. Once more, Eunhye took a moment to survey the severity of Jongup's expression, noting how unlike _him_ the downward drag of his mouth seemed. Gone was the clever boy, all crooked teeth and effortless smiles, instead he was replaced with the harshness of a disciplined solder.

 

“Aejong and I wish to take advantage of the Summer sun while it lasts. She has spoken without rest of your story telling skills, and both of us wish so much for you to read to us again. The courtyard not far from this chamber is empty at this time of day, I am certain we will not be disturbed.” She offered him a smile.

 

“I do not think my company will do anything to please your Ladyship this afternoon.” He replied, shaking his head and offering her yet another weak smile.

 

“And why so is that?” Eunhye laughed softly, shaking her head, “The water of your voice and the light of your smile can never go amiss, Jongup-ah.”

 

“My Lady I beg of you, please. I would only draw darkness to the light hearted flavour of those stories. I do not think today is a day fit for me to read you literature of love.” Jongup replied, his voice guarded. The smile that tugged the corner of the Lady's lips fell, and her brow furrowed somewhat in concern.

 

“Jongup-ah what is the matter?” She asked, head tilted as she took a step towards him.

 

“My Lady-” Jongup began, but Eunhye cut him off.

 

“I am not asking as your Lady, I am asking as your friend.” She watched as he turned to watch her advancing towards him. Gently, the tips of her fingers brushed at his uniform, touching his elbow through the soft clothing, “What has happened?”

 

“I just...” Jongup sucked in a deep breath and glanced towards her as she offered him such gentle concern, “I made a mistake, Noona. Nothing more.”

 

“Do you need to discuss it?” She asked, gently touching his cheek. The brush of her fingers was so familial, as though she were offering council to her little brother, whom she cared for deeply. He knew that he was lucky to have a friend such as her, and yet once more the guilt tugged at him as he inwardly reminded himself how he had taken her husband. With the love she had for Aejong sustaining her, he wondered how she would feel if ever she were to discover just who it was Himchan held at night in her stead. A part of him knew that if they were to share this friendship, he should tell her and be honest but once more his selfishness won out and he chose instead to shake his head.

 

“No... I do not think that would be wise.” He said, his lips twitching.

 

Eunhye's shoulders relaxed just slightly and she smoothed her palm to his cheek, then withdrew, making again towards the door, “Then come... There is no use concealing yourself and hiding away. Even if you will not read aloud, at least sit with us in whatever sunshine remains.”

 

This time, Jongup did not have the heart to refuse her and merely nodded his head, following her into the outside corridor. She lead him in silence to the courtyard where days before they had shared in their time together, but now no rays of sun beat down the warm the trickling water, instead the sky was a blanket of moody grey and white as clouds gathered en masse and showed no indication of parting. His eyes dropped and found the golden tips of the tree that stood at the centre of the courtyard. Weeks before the branches, laced with lush green, would have teamed with the crisp bodies of eager cicadas, and the air would have thrummed with the rhythmic revelry of their song but now the only music was the Autumn breeze and the constant chuckle of the stream. After seventeen years growing below ground, the summer they had long prepared for was over and every cicada would now have died. As their small bodies landed on the soft forest floor, their thorax would be cracked by hungry beaks, their insides offering a rare delicacy. From a lifetime of knowing nothing but darkness, Jongup wondered if they realised as soon as they broke through their juvenile skin and emerged into the sun, they began to die.

 

The soldier turned his head and glanced down towards the stream where a single wing floated on the artificial current, glinting in the sun. All that was left for another seventeen years, he mused. Beneath the tree, Aejong was awaiting them, her hands curved around the leather bound book she so desperately wanted to know, but that she could not understand with her own uneducated eyes.

 

Aejong greeted him with a bow and a shy smile, and Eunhye crossed the courtyard to meet her, “Good afternoon, Sir.” She said.

 

Jongup's lip quirked at the title. Never in his life would he have believed that one day he would earn such a greeting. He was a peasant, someone of no consequence who had been thrust into a world where he was so out of place, and yet still he is mistaken as someone who earns a title of nobility.

 

“I am not a sir, Aejong-ssi. I'm just a servant, like you.” he said. A light flush crept to her cheeks and it was soon brushed away by Eunhye's loving hand as she spoke once more.

 

“Have you come to read to us, Jongup-ssi?” She asked, her eyes hopeful. Jongup made to respond, but was interrupted by a clearing throat behind him. His head turned and he glanced back to a cleric standing at the far east of the courtyard, his expression set as he bowed low.

 

“Jongup-ssi the King has returned to his afternoon duties and your presence is required in the throne room.” The man announced, his hands folding at the front of his terracotta robe as he awaited the soldier to go with him.

 

Jongup's smile was apologetic when he returned his gaze to Aejong and her mistress, “Forgive me, Aejong-ssi. I shall read to you again soon, I promise.” He said, bowing as he withdrew and followed the cleric back into the main Palace. The throne room sat at the heart of Huingol, almost on the opposite side from where they stood now. Often meals would be shared between the royal siblings and the many Lords and Generals who resided within the Palace walls or the city surrounding them, but on some occasions, the wide doors would be opened up to the people of Huingol, and peasants and Lords alike would come to lay their quarrels before the King.

 

Before them the bronze doors sat open and at the head of the hall sat Yongguk upon his throne of ebony wood and his hands curled around the arm rests as he heard from a Peasant before him. Jongup was silent as he stepped past the leading cleric and took his position at their King's right side, standing a little way back and watching as the city worker stood with hands wringing together.

 

“My wife hopes so sincerely for the child, Your Majesty.” The man said, brows furrowed, “But I fear for her health, she is so weak.”

 

Yongguk lifted a hand, his own expression set in one of thoughtful concern. His thumb and index finger moved to rub at his jaw as he reclined back in his throne, “Have you called on a physician to visit her?”

 

“Your Majesty we cannot afford one.” The man replied, shaking his head, “If she grows any weaker I am worried that both she and the babe will die.”

 

Jongup watched as Yongguk shifted forward in his seat, gesturing to a cleric who stood, taking notes on a simple scroll with a brush and jet black ink, “Send for one of the Palace physicians.” He said, “Have them call upon this man and his wife before sundown tonight, and however many times they need until the child is born.”

 

The peasant looked as though he were on the verge of tears and he dropped down to his knees upon the floor, bowing repeatedly as he babbled, “Your Majesty thank you, thank you...” he repeated over and over, “May Noeul bless you, Your Majesty, thank you. How can I ever repay this kindness?”

 

“Go with my cleric, Master Oh, he shall arrange this for you.” Yongguk merely waved aside the thanks, “All I ask is that when your child is born, you bring them here so I may see your blessing with my own eyes and share in your joy.”

 

The palace cleric stepped across the stone floor and began to guide the man towards the open doors and the meeting rooms that lay beyond. Outside a crowd was gathering of peasants and aristocracy, all hoping to chance their turn at an audience with the King. Jongup's gaze shifted to said man as he moved in his seat, glancing back over his shoulder and offering his assistant a half smile, one brow quirked. It appeared he was in a good mood that day, the first for what felt like a while.

 

“How go things with you, Jongup-ah?” He asked, reaching for the goblet perched atop a small table not far from him.

 

“Well, Your Majesty.” Jongup responded as he stepped closer, a hand brushing at the back of the regal throne. Yongguk nodded and swallowed his mouthful, licking his lips and setting the drink aside once more. It wouldn't be long until such beverages would be swapped out and replaced instead with hot tea and heated spiced liquor, anything to warm the stomach during the impending winter.

 

As they spoke, the crowd beyond the hall doors parted to allow through the Prince, dressed neatly in his indigo robes with his hair tied loosely back. Himchan's expression was schooled as he walked with casual ease through the centre of the wide chamber, bowing his head to Yongguk in greeting, “Good afternoon, brother.” He said.

 

“Himchan.” Yongguk stated the name in place of a hello. From the corner of his eye, Jongup could see the way Himchan's head turned in hope of meeting his gaze. The soldier resisted the tug of gravity and kept his focus towards their rule as he shifted forward in his seat and gestured to a nearby chair. The Master General took his own seat and settled into silence while Yongguk called for another to be brought before him.

 

The afternoon drew long as men and women crowded through the great hall to lay their lives before the King all while clouds gathered above the mountains and a lone rider crossed through the highest pass to descend into Huingol. With hands curved around leather reigns, the rider spurred his steed on as fast as the tired animal could go and the familiar mountain roads opened up and the Valley spread out like a map before him.

 

Hooves ground against gravel in their steady and desperate rhythm while stray branches whipped at his skin. The sturdy cotton and leather of his uniform protected him from the cold, whipping air while the stallion picked up speed and they disappeared into the dark and damp forests that spread out across the Valley floor. The rain had soaked down between the moss and green grass that grew around the tangled tree roots and heavy boulders, and the horse's hooves sunk into the dampened earth as it wove through the woods. Between fallen fruit and rotting leaves were the lifeless bodies of hundreds of cicadas, their crisp forms decaying in the damp and soon to be buried in a grave of snow.

 

With the heavy rhythm and aggravated grunts of the overworked horse, life in the forest was scarce, and soon the lone rider was rupturing from the trees and crossing the plane to the golden capital. When the first guard atop the wall noticed him approaching, he clanged a warning bell, calling for the bronze gates to be opened to allow him entrance but even as hooves clattered abruptly against the laying stone ground, he did not stop.

 

City workers and citizens parted in a hurry to avoid the speeding soldier as he raced through every vein like street to the heart of the city where he dismounted, leaving his exhausted steed in the caring hands of a rushing page boy to step into the Palace towards their King.

 

Jongup sucked in a deep breath as yet another Lord came forward with quarrels of money and possession. It seemed as though endless men would come before their ruler to whine of needs and wants, and what they believed they deserved. Jongup was amazed at the endless patience Yongguk had, and how he was so able to still respond to every concern as though it held such vital importance to the whole peninsula. Soon, with calm words, he had calmed their quarrels and the Lord retreated from the room while Yongguk once more curved his hand around his goblet to take a drink.

 

“Bring in the next that await” He said with a wave of his hand, but before his cleric could move forward and summon those who stood outside, the crowd was parting once more to let through a soldier, dressed in black. His spine was straight as he walked with haste across the great hall towards the throne and as he lifted his head, a jolt of shock rushed through Jongup's body.

 

“Jonghwan.” He said aloud, lurching forward and watching as his elder brother knelt panting before their King, his hand extended as he proffered a rolled up scroll of parchment.

 

“Your Majesty.” Jonghwan said, ignoring the utterance of his name from his younger brother's lips. Himchan straightened in his chair and watched as Yongguk took the scrunched paper from the soldier's sturdy grip, his brows furrowed in concern. Jonghwan's uniform was filthy and his black hair unrestrained and unkempt as it fell around his face. He looked as though he had ridden straight from battle, and not slept in what appeared to be days.

 

“Moon Jonghwan what has happened?” Himchan asked as the soldier stood, his hands clasping behind his back. Yongguk rose a hand to silence the soldier as he read the words scrawled upon the paper and Jonghwan mad no move to answer their Master General's questions.

 

Jongup felt as though some great weight had settled inside his chest, and the steady rhythm of his heart beat pounded so loud in his ears, he could swear the entire hall would hear it. After what felt like an age, their King lowered the letter into his lap and returned his gaze to the soldier. With twisted lips and dark eyes he asked, “What happened?”

 

Jonghwan in took a slow breath and began, “The morning after which we arrived to Lord Shin's compound he lead us into the mountains, along with five of his own men. Altogether it was two Generals, a Lord and twenty-five men as we crossed through the mountain pass and to the first village. The people welcomed us and offered us places to sleep, and brought us food. They spoke of the next village over, the one that had been wiped out overnight with no visible villain to name. Some claimed it was ghosts, who appeared from between the rocks late at night and murdered the people in their sleep but General Kwon...” Jonghwan hesitated, continued, “He believed it was troops from Zhonghua, attempting to gain entrance into Joseon, and destroying an obstacle in their path.

 

At dawn, we left the village and continued through the mountains towards the border and we found it. From first glance, all the buildings were empty, we did not even find bodies in the streets, it seemed more as though the townspeople had fled rather than been murdered. Lord Shin suggested we send a scouting party through the streets, but General Kwon insisted there was no threat, so instead we ventured in through the gates and into the town. Once all were inside, men began pouring from the buildings, heavily armed. They were not from Zhonghua, they were raiders, bandits and though they were lacking in discipline, but they were heavily armed and their number far outweighed ours, we were ambushed.” Jonghwan hesitated again, but this time he fell silent.

 

Himchan rubbed his fingers across his jaw and exhaled a sharp breath, brows furrowed in concern, “How many were killed?”

 

“Many, Your Highness... Lord Shin's men were all killed, as were some of the elite and infantry.” Jonghwan said. The way he spoke, his tongue seemed heavy, his schooled expression flickering and his eyes glanced instead to his brother, “General Moon, too, was one of the lives taken.”

 

All of a sudden Jongup found it hard to breathe, his ruby lips parting as he tried and failed to draw oxygen in to his burning lungs. Himchan cursed under his breath and slammed his hand against the arm of his chair, “And Kwon?” He asked.

 

The youngest Moon child noticed the way his brother's lip curled at the mention of the name before once more his features were schooled, “Fled. As soon as it was clear we were outnumbered, he fled the village, I am not sure where it was he returned to.”

 

“Then the letter?” Himchan asked, his voice thick with venomous hate.

 

Yongguk held it out towards his brother, “Signed with Lord Shin's seal.”

 

Jonghwan nodded, refusing to meet his brother's eyes once more, “We fell back and took refuge from the attackers long enough for Lord Shin to write this and give it to me. My stallion is fast, I knew he could carry me here to Huingol much faster than many others and so I rode tirelessly since. I do not know what lives are accounted for, or what transpired after my leaving.”

 

“Is aid required?” Himchan asked, but once more the scroll was proffered to him by his brother. The Master General took hold of the parchment and his gaze darted across each line, nodding in thought while Jongup watched on in agitated silence. He felt as though the world was spinning too slow and too fast all at once, and the three men before him somehow managed to keep so calm. Jongup did not believe he could anymore be calm, he wanted to scream, he wanted to tear at his clothes and at his hair. His father, his wonderful father, would never return home.

 

The sound of paper scrunching drew Jongup from his thoughts and he looked towards Himchan as he stood, “They will return to Huingol once all troops have been gathered. If they are transporting the injured, they will be slow.” He called over a cleric with a wave of his hand, delegating commands with an air of strength, “Arrange for beds for the injured, and gather all physicians from the Palace, or from the city too if so needed. Send word to those upon the wall that a procession shall be passing through the mountains from the North, we shall require a group to meet them and assist them into the Valley,” he aimed the words to an attentive guard, who slipped free from the room without hesitation.

 

It was Yongguk next who stood, his fingers sinking into the silks of his robe as he straightened them, “Send for Huingol's Generals.” He called, and already a cleric was rushing towards the door, “We shall meet in the council room.” With a wave of his hand, the King gestured for Jonghwan to follow him and both Himchan and Jongup fell into step behind them.

 

Jonghwan's hands were clasped behind his back, and his expression was solemn. He had not allowed himself a moment to think on his journey back to the Valley, too engrossed in the vital nature of his task to let his own emotions wash over him, but the longer he stood inside the regal palace, the more exhausted he became.

 

The crowd outside the great hall parted and allowed the royal brothers through, with the two soldiers following close behind, “In which direction did Kwon flee?” Yongguk finally asked.

 

“Back towards Shin's compound, Your Majesty.” Jonghwan replied, his jaw tense as he spoke, glancing to the Master General as he was less concealing of his dislike for the man they spoke of.

 

“And it was he who insisted no scouts were necessary?” He asked, Jonghwan nodded.

 

“A foolish mistake.” Yongguk said, voice hard. Himchan shook his head and folded his arms across the front of his chest.

 

“A mistake that cost lives. _Many_ lives.” Himchan said, adding to what his brother spoke. Before them, two strong guards pulled open the wide doors that kept the private wing separate from the public eyes, and both brothers stepped through without glancing behind. Jongup's tongue felt heavy, his throat thick and tight while his lungs continued to burn and ache, no intake of breath quite enough to fill them. He did not understand how his brother could maintain his face schooled to a perfect blank.

 

They rounded a corner and Yongguk glanced to the weary soldier, “You have ridden far, Jonghwan.” The words were simple, but they were an offer of release.

 

“Yes, Your Majesty.” Jonghwan replied as they came to a halt outside the chamber where the Generals had congregated. His fingers were turning white as they twisted so tightly together, but his brow creased with worry was what caused Yongguk to urge him forward.

 

“You may speak freely.”

 

With only a moment of hesitation, Jonghwan continued, “My mother, Your Majesty someone must...” he paused, swallowed. Suddenly he no longer seemed as confident, his eyes growing sad as the true weight settled upon him, “She does not yet know.”

 

“Go to her.” Yongguk said, gesturing once more towards the door, “You have done your duty, you are no longer required to stay. Rest your weary body, and I am sure your presence shall be a great comfort to her.”

 

Jonghwan bowed his head low once and turned. The matching onyx eyes of the Moon brothers met for just a moment and Jongup saw the void that settled there, the darkness that lingered just behind his gaze. He did not want to know what his brother had seen.

 

“Jonghwan...” Jongup tried, but his brother did not respond, simply stepping back down the hallway towards the light of day. The warmth of a familiar hand pressed to the centre of his back and soon the door before them was opening. With his blood pounding in his ears, Jongup stepped over the threshold beside his King and before the council.

 

What followed were the voices of men, heated in their argument. Vicious words and bitter excuses were thrown before the King, while terms like _breeding_ and _worth_ dismissed the weight of a General's death. Jongup's mouth tasted of bile and rage as Lords passed General Kwon's cowardice as protection of his bloodline, while they praised his Father's so called sacrifice. The loss of General Moon mattered less to aristocracy, he was nothing more than a peasant in death, even if he had held status in life.

 

Jongup swallowed against the urge to vomit as a Lord announced his support of Kwon aloud, and finally the King took mercy upon him. With a hand raised and jaw tense he turned to glance at his assistant, “Enough of this.” The severity of Yongguk's voice calmed the battle between others in the room, and all turned to face him.

 

Himchan's brow was furrowed as he looked towards his brother. Too quickly, his own anger had overwhelmed him at the dismissal of the death of a man who he considered to be one of the greatest Huingol had seen. Yongguk had silenced him with firm words and a commanding gaze, which he now turned towards all those who gathered and squabbled like children, “Everyone out.”

 

“I still believe we-” One man tried, but was silenced with Yongguk's palm raising.

 

“I said everyone out.” He repeated, turning to Jongup. The soldier's fingers were tense in fists, his teeth pressed tight together, “You may return home, over the coming days you shall be of more worth there than you shall be here. Pack a bag of your things, I shall send for you when I wish for your return.”

 

Without a moment to pause, he moved for the door and slipped into the corridor beyond. His feet where fast in their rhythm as they smacked against the familiar tiles that had never been home to him. Just like his peasant born father, he did not belong in the wide halls or regal chambers that marked the home of the King. His true belonging was the battlefield, or the stable of the house across the city where he grew from a babe to a child, and from a child to a man.

 

Jongup emerged from the shadowed hall and slipped through an illuminated library. He didn't know when night had fallen, time felt so out of joint when his whole being was weighed down by the gravity of grief.

 

“Jongup wait!” Himchan's voice called from behind him, but it went ignored and soon he was turning into the familiarity of his bedchamber. With haste, he opened the chest that sat against his wall and pulled from it a collection of folded clothes to tie safely into the folds of a bojagi. Footsteps approached and soon the prince was in his doorway, “Jongup...”

 

Jongup did not respond as he reached for a leather bound book, then a belt. His hands were clumsy in their desperation to gather his things and flee from this building. The Prince watched with a furrowed brow as he was ignored again and stepped further into the room, “Your father did not deserve that disrespect.” He tried, but once more Jongup did not even so much as glance to him. Frustration pushed at Himchan's chest and he lurched forward, his hand wrapping around the wrist of a reaching arm to stop it in its movement, “God damn it Jongup, listen.”

 

“What do you want, Your Highness?” His voice was hard with pent up emotion, and Himchan's jaw clenched.

 

“I've told you not to call me that.” He said.

 

“And your brother has told you not to speak to me.” Jongup replied. He pulled his wrist free from the grip he had once so craved, moving past him to his modest desk.

 

Himchan watched and pursed his lips, “I don't care what Yongguk wants.” He said, watching Jongup's darting hands. Sitting behind the Horses was the tied bouquet of chrysanthemums Eunhye had forgotten there earlier in the day, but the sight of them drew Himchan's body to tense.

 

“Did my brother gift you these?” he asked, voice so tense that Jongup could not stop the laughter that rumbled bitterly from his chest.

 

“Jealousy does not become you, Your Highness.” He said, pulling away from the man who stared at the offending blossoms.

 

“His attempts to woo you are pathetic.” The bitterness of Himchan's voice had Jongup's lip curling.

 

“Just as is your selfishness.” He replied. The Master General watched, brows furrowed as the soldier grabbed at his things, shoving them haphazardly wherever they fit into folded cloths and canvas satchels.

 

“And what is that supposed to mean?” he asked, stepping into the soldier's way.

 

Jongup's gaze fixed him with a determined stare, “Even now, all you consider is the battle between you and your brother. Your focus is on whether or not the King has taken me to his bed, or if he so desires to do so. My father is _dead_ , Himchan. Sent to his death by you and yet your care remains on whether or not I have spread my legs for the King!” He said, voice growing in volume, “You have fooled me, you have used me! You have asked for and taken whatever you will! What more could you want, what more can you ask for?!”

 

“I never used you!” Himchan replied, matching him in volume as he advanced towards him, “I never _once_ took you to my bed, nor into my arms for any reason other than my belief that you wished for it as much as I. I care about you, Jongup, and I never once considered doing anything that suggested otherwise.”

 

“Do not lie to me, Himchan! You never cared for anything more than your own desire!” Jongup snapped back to him in response.

 

“Don't you _dare_ claim that I never cared!” Himchan ground the words out through clenched teeth, “I have cared for you every moment since we met. There has not been one time when I took you to bed without caring, there has not been a single kiss or touch that did not give you such _._ I care for you so desperately that I cannot think of another, I cannot _look at_ another.”

 

“Liar!” Jongup shot back.

 

The Prince growled out as he advanced onto the soldier, pressing his body against the wood of the small desk. Himchan's nose almost touched Jongup's as they stood there, panting out angered breaths with enraged eyes meeting, “Damn it Jongup I love you and I will not allow my brother to say otherwise.”

 

“You know nothing of love.” Jongup bit back, nostrils flaring and he once more pushed the prince away from him. His head was spinning, as was the earth around him. He did not belong here. _I should have been there_ the words circled his mind like vultures to death, picking at the bones of his fractured heart.

 

When he withdrew, Himchan's hand slammed down against the desk, causing it to rock and one unsteady horse to fall. Both watched as clay shattered against tile and the precious creature was nothing more the fragments of slicing stone.

 

“Get out.” the boy said. _I should have been there. I should have been there. He would still be alive if I had been there._

 

“Jongup, please...” Himchan tried, but Jongup took hold of the wilted chrysanthemums, throwing them with force at the pleading Prince.

 

“Get out!” He shouted, voice raised, “Get out, get out!” he advanced further and shoved at the desperate man until Himchan finally relented and withdrew, leaving him alone.

 

It was the middle of the night when he stole away. His belongings were folded together in simple satchels that were slung over his arms as he walked through the cities empty streets and towards the only home he had ever known. All he left behind were four clay horses, still in formation upon his desk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading this mess x


	11. Chapter 11

Jongup doesn't feel the loss like the others do, instead he dreams. They are not nightmares, but dreams of a distant childhood and an endless summer. Bare feet sink into soft grass and he can't wipe the smile from his face as his father and brothers call to him from the other side of a gently running stream. Jonghwan and Jongin were holding hands, their small fingers interlaced and their mouths smeared with the juice of forest berries they feasted on as they found them growing between low lying leaves. The breeze is pleasantly cool, the clouds are soft and white and swallows swoop low to pick off the grasshoppers that leap too high from the ground.

 

“Sit with me, Jongup-ah.” His mother's voice chimes. Her smile is so wide that her eyes disappear, and Jongup's chest swells with a love unlike anything he had felt before, “Your Papa and Hyungs are playing in the big boy part of the woods.” With slender fingers she lifted a clay horse from where it lay on the grass, humming a tune into his hair as he reached for it. Words wouldn't form on his tongue, even though he knew them but it was okay. He did not need to speak as his Mama's arm wound its way around his middle and pulled him close.

 

As she hummed the tune, the breeze pulled at her hair and he laughed, reaching his small hands and curious fingers out towards it as she rubbed at his stomach, “ _The river is flowing out to the sea, down to where the waves meet the shore, and the wind surrounds the fishermen with a terrible roar...”_ She sung the words to him as he muttered a soft sound, grabbing at the air. With tender hands she took his own and brought them to her mouth, kissing each one of his small fingertips as he watched her with wonder filled wide eyes, _“Don't you worry, little angel, do not cry, because your Mama will be here for you right by your side. For even as the ocean will drown searching men, your Mama will love you again and again.”_

 

Jongup turned his head when his name was called again and his father waved to him from across the stream. His brothers too turned their small heads, pausing in their scattered words to wave their hands as well. It was his mother who laughed and wound her fingers around his wrist, raising his hand up to wave in return. He wanted to speak, to call out. All he wanted was to tell his father that he loved him, his brothers that he looked up to them but his mouth couldn't make the movements, nor could his clumsy tongue. As his mother once more hummed the tune into his ear, his father turned and gently guided Jongin and Jonghwan's forms further into the dark wood until the sunshine no longer touched them, and they could no longer be seen, _“For even as the ocean will drown searching men, your Mama will love you again and again.”_

 

Jongup woke with a start. His clothes were sticking to him even in the cool temperature of the small room, while the soft pre-dawn light filtered in from the small window. With a slow exhale of breath, Jongup swung his legs over the edge of the bed and stood, silently slipping from his chamber and into the main room of their small home. They were lucky in many ways, and the family was grateful that they had a home large enough to offer each member a private bedchamber, and a study for the General's privacy. Briefly, Jongup wondered what would happen to that room now that it no longer had a purpose.

 

At the centre of the house was a hearth, its heart glowing with warm embers not quite distinguished. Jonghwan was sitting at its side, his strong arms folded over his chest, his eyes focused on the red glow before him. Even as Jongup's feet made no sound as they fell, his brother knew he was approaching and lifted his gaze to greet him, “Could not sleep, Hyung?” Jongup asked.

 

Jonghwan shook his head and shifted in his seat, “No.” he replied, “Can you?”

 

Jongup shrugged, lowering himself to sit not far from where his brother was. He leant forward and extended his arms, trying to gain some warmth to his stiff fingertips, “I was awoken by a dream.”

 

“What did you dream of?” His brother's voice was soft, eyes following his every movement. Jongup merely shook his head, it did not need to be repeated.

 

“Is Mama asleep?” He asked, his head turning and glancing back towards the chamber that housed the bed she had shared with their father. Jonghwan's lips twisted and turned down into a frown as he sighed.

 

“Yes... I only just got her to rest.” He said, “She kept saying she needed to check on you. Just to make sure you had not disappeared. She missed you.”

 

“I missed her. I missed all of you.” Jongup said in return, his eyes finding his brother's again.

 

“When must you return to the Palace?” Jonghwan asked, leaning forward slightly. The younger man hesitated at the question, his head tilting briefly to the side. He thought of Himchan, his eyes on fire as he growled out the words _“I love you.”_ he thought of Yongguk, of Daehyun, of Eunhye and Aejong. With a tight throat, he swallowed and glanced back to his brother.

 

“I am not returning.” He said.

 

Jonghwan's brow quirked, “Why?”

 

“It is best that I do not. For a few reasons.” Jongup didn't wish to elaborate. He swallowed thickly and looked aside. Daehyun and Eunhye would easily move on from the loss of his friendship, and Yongguk would be assigned a new assistant in mere hours. It was Himchan that held uncertainty for him. If the prince had been lying, then he had never loved him at all, and would forget about him with ease, but if he had been telling the truth it would be another matter altogether. There was no way for Jongup to know for sure if the words spat at him in heated anger held any fact at all, but he would not allow himself to think on it for too long, that way lies madness.

 

“Jongup what happened?” Jonghwan asked. The question was posed to him in a soft tone, but the younger only offered his brother a shrug.

 

“I wish to ask the same to you.” He said. Jonghwan's lip quirked at his little brother's avoidance of his questioning, but he did not speak. Jongup watched the way Jonghwan's brow dragged down, his arms tense as they folded across his chest. The brother he remembered was playful and joking, someone who wished to share in the gossip that passed between lips and ears across the city. Jongup had his theories of which girls across town Jonghwan's eyes lingered upon, and who's skirts his eager hands were allowed beneath. He could not recognise this man before him.

 

“Did you... See it happen?” Jongup asked.

 

Jonghwan's shoulders tensed for just a moment, then his head turned and their eyes fixed. He nodded once and searched for his words, “He was further up the road than me, I was not by his side when it happened. As a General, he does not separate himself from his men, he fought and died by their sides as an equal upon the field. Boyeon was killed, but still he fought with them, he did not hesitate in stepping forward even if it risked his own life.” The soldier's eyes were fixed on the burning embers, soon lifting, “It was quick, Jongup-ah. A blade to the throat. He did not suffer.”

 

Jongup released a breath he did not know he had been holding and nodded once. It was a comfort to know that such a great man died a noble death, he had not been left to bleed at the side of the road. His lips twisted as he attempted to keep his emotions at bay, yet still his eyes were dry. “And Jongin?”

 

The elder man hesitated once more, then shook his head, “I don't know. I was drawn back before I could see where he was.” Jonghwan's palm lifted and touched his cheek, rubbing gently at his skin as he spoke once more, “Lord Shin should be leading the troops back into the valley today. We can meet them... and bring Hyung home.”

 

Behind them a door opened and the exhausted form of their mother emerged. Her eyes were red, as were her cheeks from the tears that had overwhelmed her since the news was given. The length of her black hair fell around her face as she stepped towards them, wrapped in the cotton of a plain robe, “Is Jongin home yet?” She asked, voice soft and brows creased with worry.

 

Jongup's throat felt thick as he looked towards her and shook his head, “Not yet, Mama.” He replied. She nodded once and looked around, as though she were unfamiliar with the building surrounding her. With hands wringing together, she stepped towards them and took hold of a boiling pot and brought it over to the hearth.

 

“I will make tea for you, my darling boys.” She said, nodding. Jonghwan was already moving forward to re-light the fire and stoke it back to life as she turned to her youngest, “I am so lucky to have my youngest children at home. Our King is very kind to spare you, Jonguppie, and allow you to return to me.” Jongup wondered if she was merely speaking to fill the silence.

 

“He is a kind man, Mama.” He said, reaching out to her. He took her quivering hands with his own steady pair and warmed them between his palms. As Jonghwan stoked the fire, Jongup drew their mother close and quietly began to murmur, _“The river is flowing out to the sea, down to where the waves meet the shore, and the wind surrounds the fishermen with a terrible roar. Don't you worry, little angel, do not cry, because I will be here for you right by your side.”_ His fingers brushed through the strands of her hair, _“For even as the ocean will drown searching men, you know I will love you again and again.”_

 

_*_

 

Himchan's arms were folded over his chest as he stood in the empty room. He had spent more time there than he would care to admit in the two days since Jongup had fled the palace, and disappeared back into the city. It was small, and even less impressive in its uninhabited state, yet still there was a kind of warmth that had nestled its way inside of the Prince's chest as he knew that to him the space was so marked as Jongup's that he could not quite imagine it being used for anything else.

 

Himchan himself had only stepped into the room a handful of times, but it was there that he had first tasted the addictive flavour of Jongup's ruby lips, when his fingers gripped agate hair and his entire being yearned for his topaz skin. Now it was abandoned, all but for the cheaply crafted furniture, and the four remaining clay horses that sat warmed in the minimal afternoon light that peered in from the window. He guessed it was his own fault, in many ways. After the death of General Moon, he had so foolishly been engulfed by his own jealous fire to offer anything but bite to the young soldier. Jongup would not have fled from him if he had not first driven him away.

 

“Of all rooms to take refuge, I would not have expected you to choose this one.” Yongguk's voice startled Himchan from his thoughts and he turned his head. His elder brother's hair hung loose around his shoulders, with only part of it tied into a neat knot atop his head, while his body was draped in the length of an emerald robe. The curve of his eyes were tired, Himchan noticed, and the smile that tilted his lips did not quite reach them.

 

“Maybe you do not know me as dearly as you once thought.” He said, turning his gaze back to the room. The sun was peeking through the shuttered window, refracting shapes on the golden tile floors. Someone must have come and cleaned away the shards of clay that had lay shattered on the stone, Himchan wondered where they had tossed them.

 

Yongguk emitted a thoughtful sound as he crossed over into the room. His fingers brushed through the dust that settled over the table top, then his palm nudged gently at the spine of a horse. Himchan wanted to push him out, to tell him that this was not a space just any person was allowed to enter. He could no longer have Jongup in his hold, and must settle for what remained.

 

“Don't touch them.” The General said before he thought to hold in his words. His brother glanced to him with a quirked brow as he stilled his movements, allowing his hand to rest upon the small figure.

 

“Lord Shin crossed through the mountain pass not an hour ago.” He said, lifting the creature and bringing it closer to survey, “He shall arrive at our gates any moment.”

 

“And is Kwon with him?” Himchan asked, reaching forward and taking the horse from his brother's hold. With tender care, Himchan set the creature down upon the desk, exhaling a breath through his nose as he straightened it. The four beasts stood together in a row, almost uniform in size and shape other than the slight inconsistencies that come with hand craft.

 

“I do not know.” Yongguk said. The Master General knew that he was being watched, but to him it mattered little. With gentle fingers, he used the sleeve of his silk robe to clean the dust from the Horse's small faces, wiping it from their eyes and around their necks. He noticed that one had a chipped ear, while another had a deep scratch dug in to its side, both he was sure from a life of being loved.

 

“I will be sending for him soon.” The King voiced, Himchan still did not look at him, “It will not be too long until he is needed by my side again.”

 

“He won't come back.”

 

“What makes you so sure of that?” Yongguk arched an eyebrow, carefully watching every movement Himchan made.

 

“I just know.” The younger responded.

 

A scoff fell from the King's lips and he shook his head, “You cannot claim to know him that well.” He said.

 

“And you cannot claim to know him at all.” Himchan bit back as he turned his head. His brows were furrowed with frustration as he pulled back from the desk, “You deny that I could know him, you deny that I could care about him, you deny that I could love him and yet you cannot claim to do any of those things yourself. If you know Jongup so well as to be able to dismiss all of my understanding of him, then not even you would be immune to his divinity.”

 

“Divinity.” Yongguk pondered the word, all while his brother's gaze returned to the small figures, “A golden prince infatuated with a stone soldier.”

 

“There is nothing stone about Moon Jongup.” Himchan said, “ _Stone_ insinuates that he is hard and cold but he isn't. He is warm and filled with an erupting love that so few are blessed enough to see and understand. I admit he is strong like stone, resilient, but he is not dull and grey or rough at the edges. He is made from the most powerful diamond, impenetrable in its strength, but mesmerising in its beauty.”

 

The King made no attempts at interrupting his younger brother, merely listening to him as he spoke, “His care for life stretches far beyond his love for his family, or the desire he possesses to protect civilians and people who are unable to defend themselves. His love covers all creatures great and small, from the colt he has reared from a foal, to the birds that nest in the palace trees, even down to hard cicadas. Do not insult him by comparing him to something as lifeless as _stone._ He is not lifeless, he _is_ life in its most divine form.”

 

“You truly do love him.” Yongguk mused, his voice tender. Carefully, the elder man took a step towards his younger brother but he did not yet touch. Even though the two sons were mere days apart in age, they had been so different since they were infants. Himchan's dazzling vivaciousness, Yongguk's studious calm, they would spend hours side by side, losing themselves in one another's company and not needing anything other than their own familiar world. The elder of the two would sit comfortably in silence, a book held in his hand, while Himchan would run and play, a wooden sword always in his grip but yet they would refuse to part from one another. Once, there had been a time where they could meet gazes and understand everything on the other's mind. Yongguk wondered when that had changed.

 

Himchan shrugged and emitted a bitter sound, “Doesn't matter now.” He said, “He is gone. Whatever it is I feel or want is of minute consequence.”

 

“I should have believed you.” Yongguk said.

 

“I did not give you reason to.” Himchan replied. His head turned and he glanced towards the elder man, a sad smile tugging at the corner of his lips, “I'm sorry, you know. For what I said about you and about Daehyun... What I said about Jongup helped very little, too, I'm sure.”

 

Just like that, Yongguk no longer saw a stern Prince, or a powerful General. He saw his little brother, someone he had sworn to love and protect from the moment he understood the meaning of such words. From the earliest days that Yongguk could remember, Himchan was not only his greatest ally, but his best friend, and it was time he reminded himself of where they came from.

 

“Maybe the men of our family do not share luck in love.” He said. The tips of his fingers nudged at Himchan's silk robe, then curved gently over his shoulder. The younger turned his head and exhaled a slow breath, trying and failing to offer his brother a much needed smile.

 

“Huingol should come first.” He said, his tone decisive.

 

There was a lot Yongguk could say, there was a lot he wanted to say, but he didn't. Instead, he lifted his hand to cup the back of his brother's hair and pressed his lips to his forehead. Maybe the rift between them could not be mended in one day, but they had to start somewhere.

 

*

 

Lights danced beyond eyelids and Jongup convinced himself he was dreaming. The wind was battering against the shutters of the simple stable and the smell of hay surrounded him, offering a kind of peace he had not thought himself capable of finding since news had reached them. He found the days since had arched in peculiar ways, as though nothing was quite linear anymore. Each member of the small home would awaken at strange hours and move about as though unaware of what they could do to keep their hands moving and their brains working but all painfully aware of every passing sound in case one of them was the eldest of the three children.

 

This thought of Jongin had the youngest brother sitting up. A little way off grazed the tender Mare his father had so loved, alongside his mother's Stallion, while Jonghwan's own beloved horse stood idle against the far wall, his nose nudging through the dry hay, as though searching for sweetness beneath. Once winter fell it would be months before the horses had the pleasure of tasting fresh green, he hoped they would once more be given the chance before such a thing was lost to them.

 

As Jongup pushed himself to stand, the creatures turned back to look towards him curiously but quickly brushed aside his presence and returned their gaze to between their hooves. He didn't bother brushing himself off as he slipped out into the waning sunshine and towards the home beyond, opening the door as quietly as he could. At first, he thought it was empty until he heard the sound of a concealed sniff. Through the dim light he noticed his brother, back against the wall and cheeks wet as he sat upon the floor, eyes closed.

 

The sound of feet shuffled on stone, and Jonghwan blinked against the intruding light, turning his head and wiping at the tears that rolled slowly down his cheeks.

 

“Hyung-” Jongup began, but before he had the chance to continue, a bell was sounding. Jonghwan slowly pushed himself to stand, furrowing his brows as he looked around searching for something Jongup did not know.

 

“That would be the troops returning.” He said, Jongup nodded. He did not push.

 

The door to their father's study pushed open, and their mother stepped into the room with hands pressed together, “Is that them?” She asked, looking between her sons, “Is that Jonginnie coming home?”

 

Neither man knew how to respond. Slowly, Jonghwan took a step forward and sunk his fingers into the fabric of a discarded cloak. He made to tie it around his neck, but their mother stepped forward and fastened it for him, her brows furrowed with worry, her gaze unfocused. Jongup watched as his brother leant forward and kissed her forehead, then pulled back from her, “I will return soon.” He murmured to her.

 

“With your brother?” She asked.

 

Jongup could see the tears that once more threatened to fall from his eyes and he nodded, “I do hope so.” With that he left, and the door swung closed behind him.

 

“He has grown up so much, your big brother.” Moon Gayeong said, turning towards Jongup with tired eyes. Without hesitation, she shifted her mothering focus onto him, her hands already attempting to straighten his robes, “Did you fall asleep in the stable again?”

 

“Not quite, Mama.” Jongup replied. His fingers twitched for a moment, itching to stop her in her fussing, but he knew that she needed this.

 

“My youngest baby, it's like you are a boy again, always falling asleep in the stable beside Boyeon or one of the others, a silly clay horse held in your hand.” She shook her head, and Jongup could not stop the relief that flooded him as he was finally convinced by the smile on her face, “Your big brothers were always so serious about their studies, but you my little one, always wanted to be outside in the sun. Who knew that you would be chosen to stand by the King.”

 

Jongup turned his head at the mention of Yongguk, his gaze cast aside but his mother did not notice. She moved from his robes to instead touch his hair and use her thumb to wipe at a smear of dirt across his cheek from his rest upon the hay, “I never anticipated that your leaving our home would trigger your brothers to grow so much more. They have always been so doting and loving with you, it took them time to adjust to a life without seeing you every day. Jonghwan has always been so playful, he has always flirted so frivolously with those around him but he's...” She paused again and looked down, “He reminds me so much of your father when he was young. All three of you do, in your own ways.”

 

“It is because he was a great man, Mama... All three of us wanted to be just like him.” Jongup said to her, watching as once more the seemingly ever present tears found their way to her eyes once more.

 

“Yes, well, he just wanted best for his beloved children. He loved all of you so much...” Her voice was tight as she turned away, hands shaking, “Praise Noeul, it is getting late, the day is escaping me. I need to feed my boys, I am sure Jongin will be famished when he returns.”

 

“Mama allow me.” Jongup said, stopping her with gentle hands as she made it towards the clay pots upon a nearby bench, “I will make the food. Please rest.”

 

Gayeong did not even put up a fight as she simply nodded, allowing her youngest to move into the small kitchen attached to the main chamber of their modest home. She watched as he carefully began to gather ingredients from the simple jars they were stored in, and he began the familiar rhythm of work in silence. Under the watchful eye of his loving mother, he pressed his fingers into sticky dough, cracking in eggs and adding simple grains and common spices just as she taught him to do so long before, when he was little more than a curious child. With a well-used knife, he sliced into the flesh of meat, pressing flavoursome powders into the gashes with the tips of his fingers until a fist against their door caused him to still.

 

Both Jongup and his mother raised their heads as the rhythm continued, persistent. Slowly, Gayeong walked across the room and Jongup wiped his hands clean on a nearby rag while his mother opened the door.

 

“Lady Moon.” The unmistakable tide of Daehyun's accented voice met Jongup and he froze.

 

“Who are you?” Gayeong asked, voice uncertain.

 

“I come from the palace, Madame, in search of your son.” He said. The formality of his tone was gentle, “May I come in and speak with him?”

 

Jongup moved to stand behind his mother, “You can speak with me.” He said, “But you may not come in.”

 

Daehyun's expression remained steady while Jongup stepped past his mother and into the small courtyard before their home. A wall, not much higher than a grown Horse, surrounded the simple house and connecting stable, offering them privacy from the people who passed by upon the city streets. Jongup closed the door behind himself, giving them privacy as he turned his eyes towards the southern cook, waiting for him to say what he had come to.

 

“Yongguk wants you to return to the Palace.” Daehyun said what the soldier anticipated he would, and all he could offer the man was arms folding across his chest.

 

“I am not returning.” He said. The sole of Jongup's simple leather shoes scuffed against the gravel that lay across their modest courtyard. Daehyun took a moment to survey the surroundings, Jongup guessed that in his time spent in the valley, the cook had not often been given the opportunity to explore the city outside of the extensive palace grounds. His head tilted as he looked around, taking in the cracked tiles sitting askew on the roof, the bales of dried hay stacked against the outer wall of the stable with sprouts of green from where another plant had sewn its roots between each individual straw, taking hold and craning up towards the sun they had not seen much of lately. It amazed Jongup, how well nature can adapt and find a way to survive in a world that could so easily tear it apart. The soldier watched as Daehyun turned back to him.

 

“I'm sorry.” He said, his face solemn, “About your father.”

 

Jongup replied, “With your apologies or no, he is still dead.”

 

“The gods give, and the gods do take but that doesn't mean it isn't hurting you.” The gentle tone of Daehyun's voice sent a twitch of aggravation through Jongup's chest. _Of course it hurts,_ he wanted to say, he wanted to _scream._ Daehyun was watching him, his eyes filled with sympathy and his brow furrowed in concern. He couldn't meet his gaze, and so Jongup turned away.

 

“I have never been one for religion.” He said.

 

“You looked at Himchan as though you very much were a religious man.” Daehyun observed.

 

“And you saw to that, did you not?” Jongup's voice swelled with heat, his eyes filled with fire as his normal composure crumbled like sand around him. Dark hair fell into darker eyes, and the soldier's fingers curled into the silks of his robe all while Himchan's parting words circled his mind. _I love you,_ he had said. _I love you._ A jagged knife of fury rippled through Jongup's chest as he bit, “Do not think for a moment that I am unaware how the King found out.”

 

“It was wrong for me to keep a secret from Yongguk.” Daehyun's ocean words were firm, “You would no more be able to keep a secret from Himchan than I would from the King.”

 

Jongup thought back to the morning they had been torn apart. His body had been wrapped so intimately in Himchan's arms, his head tucked beneath his chin. The steady and familiar rhythm of his heart beat had been constant in his ear, while the scent of his skin filled his nostrils and held him in a content calm. His father had been alive then, and Summer was still spread across the Valley floor. Even though it wasn't much more than a week before, it seemed like an age had passed as Jongup's everything fell into ruin.

 

“You swore your life to the King, Jongup. You cannot merely disappear into the city when he summons for your return.” Daehyun tried again, stepping closer to the soldier, “If you will not return for Yongguk, return for Himchan.”

 

“Nothing binds me to the Palace.” Jongup bit back, “Not Yongguk and especially not Himchan. I will not return.”

 

“You know that is not true.” The cook frowned.

 

“What I know, Daehyun, is that I have a mother who needs me home. I have a brother who cannot support our family on his own, and another who has not yet returned to the city.” Jongup held up his hand. Behind Daehyun, the gate to their courtyard opened and Jonghwan slipped easily through. His face was worn, his eyes tired even as he watched his brother facing a man he had never lay eyes upon before, “If Yongguk wishes for my return, he must wait instead of sending his servants to my door. I want to see you no more than I would want to see Himchan, or the King himself.”

 

“Jongup-” Daehyun's voice was filling with a frustration of his own but his words were cut off by Jonghwan as the elder man's hand pressed to the centre of his brother's back.

 

Jongup's gaze did not tear from Daehyun as the elite soldier said, “I believe it is time for you to leave.”

 

The southerner's nostrils flared with annoyance as he flicked his gaze to the elder man, “I am here on business of the King.” He said.

 

“And I am telling the King to wait.” Jonghwan stated, “Leave.” Daehyun looked between the onyx eyes of the two brothers and he knew there was nothing more he could do. With only a moment of hesitation, he stepped back and turned, slipping through the gate and letting it close behind him.

 

Jonghwan's hand did not pull from Jongup's back, and the younger was grateful. It's warmth was steadying to him, keeping him focused as he gained control of his breathing and allowed the rage to flow from his veins as swiftly as it had arrived, “One day, Jongup-ah... I will need to know what happened in the Palace.”

 

Jongup turned his head and glanced to his brother, “Where is Jongin?” He asked. The elder man exhaled a slow breath and stepped back towards their front door, nudging it open.

 

“Come inside...” He murmured.

 

In the dim of their home, their mother sat with hands worrying together, her eyes filled with fear as she watched her two sons enter their home, “I heard raised voices...” She said, standing and coming towards them, her eyes unsteady as she looked between the two men, “Where is Jongin?” She asked, “Is he on his way from the barracks?”

 

As the door fell closed, Jonghwan brought their mother to him, his voice wavering as he said, “Jongin did not come home. He is missing, they do not know if he is alive.”

 

The sound Gayeong emitted sent a cold through Jongup's entire body as the waves of misery once again crashed down upon their family. She cried into Jonghwan's chest and he stroked his fingers through her hair, his own tears concealed by his turned head. Jongup watched them with dry eyes and an empty chest.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not much longer to go now x


	12. Chapter 12

Golden leaves swayed on dry branches, but they did not yet fall. Autumn had swept into the Valley almost overnight, turning the forest that surrounded the stone capital a sunset glow of red and orange while dark clouds gathered overhead. It had been days since even the vaguest peak of blue sky had been seen by anyone living in the city, and all knew it was only a matter of time before the rain froze and became snow and winter would set in once and for all.

 

Eunhye had never liked winter. When she had been a small child, she hated spending the long months couped up, forced to remain within the limiting walls of Huingol, rather than being allowed the opportunity to roam free and explore. The days would drag on in a mass of white, and every freezing hour melted into the next, tedious and long as she sat under the heavy weight of her winter robes, eagerly awaiting the coming of spring. She had always hoped, as she grew older, that the long dark of winter would stop seeming so endless, but still every year as the leaves began to turn she was filled with dread for the coming cold.

 

Aejong loved winter, something Eunhye had never understood. Every morning she would rush to the window and gaze up at the sky, her eyes wide and hoping that _today_ would be the day the first snow fell. Some evenings she would assure Eunhye she could smell it on the wind, and once they were in bed her face would press into the crook of her beloved mistress's neck in search of that extra warmth while she hummed in honest content. Eunhye had never seen anyone be filled so joyously and innocently with excitement before she had seen her love awaiting the first fall of snow, and she guessed maybe this winter with Aejong by her side she may find something about it to love.

 

“You are very quiet, Eunhye-ah.” Kim Hwayah's voice cut through the lady's thoughts and she turned her head. Long lashes fluttered and crimson lips parted as Eunhye turned to glance at her mother in law, who walked in step beside her, hands clasped at the front of her deep indigo robes and black hair tied neatly back. For as long as she could remember, Eunhye had been in awe of Hwayah's beauty, and even now it astounded her how her grace could linger regardless of age or experience.

 

“I apologise, Madame.” Eunhye offered the woman a smile, then a polite dip of her head.

 

“Is there something upon your mind, child?” Hwayah asked. Although the woman held no superiority of authority over the younger, an air of respect had always been held between them. Hwayah, born of peasant blood held a position in the palace that was unattainable to anyone else, and although Eunhye herself was nobility and a Princess by marriage, her title was nothing when held against the role Hwayah played.

 

With a shake of her head, Eunhye once more turned her gaze to before her, pressing her palms together in hope of creating friction, “I am simply cold, Madame,” she said, a soft laugh passing her lips, “I fear my optimism for Summer's linger has prevented me from dressing appropriately for the Autumn chill.”

 

“The cold has a habit of sneaking upon us.” Hwayah said with warmth in her gaze. Sometimes Eunhye wondered if that warmth would remain if the Lady knew the true rift that had formed between her son and his young wife, and the other who took pride of place in Eunhye's eye.

 

“That it does, Madame.” She said, her fingers curling together at her front.

 

“I have been meaning to ask of you, my dear, how goes my son? Does he treat you well?” Hwayah's brow was furrowed as she shook her head, “He spends so many hours in strategy rooms and conference with Generals, I do wonder if he gives you any attention at all. Our King keeps him busy, too, I am sure.”

 

“You know what Himchan is like.” Eunhye said with a smile, shaking her head, “He keeps himself just as busy as the King does. He is dedicated to Huingol and the peninsula, he will never tire of his duty, I'm sure of it.”

 

“Do you ever feel lonely, my child?” Hwayah asked, “Your Husband should be by your side, not locked away in his studies.”

 

Eunhye emitted a soft laugh, glancing sidelong to her mother in law, “Madame, Himchan is married just as much to the army as he is to me. I assure you, I would not expect anything different of him, nor do I allow myself time to be alone. There is much to keep me occupied during the day, too.” Her mind was caught in the tide of memory and dragged back over wet sands to hours earlier that morning. In her mind's eye, she could see Aejong's soft body spread out upon linen sheets, her dark hair fanning out around her and her eyes filled with an adoring love. As the sun sat hidden behind clouds above the valley, Eunhye had taken to reading to her beautiful love while her fingers traced shapes across her naked back.

 

“News reached me this morning that the King's sister, the Princess Yejin, is pregnant with her first child. Lord Kil was overjoyed to share the news, he sent a rider to Huingol overnight to bare the news.” The smile on Hwayah's lips could be heard warm in her voice, while her straight teeth were bared, “Both Yongguk and Himchan were joyful at the news... It does make me think of Himchan fathering a babe of his own.”

 

“I am pleased to hear of Princess Yejin's blessing, Madame.” Eunhye said, her tongue swiping across her lower lip. For the three years since she had been married to Himchan, Eunhye's own parents had been encouraging of them having children and over time they had grown increasingly frustrated that one had not yet been born.

 

“The joy of baring children, Eynhye-ah is incomparable.” Hwayah said, glancing across to the younger woman once more, “Is it not something that lingers upon your mind?”

 

“As you have said yourself, Madame, Himchan is a very busy man. His new role in court is one of great importance, I do not want to cause a distraction, he would spend far too much time worrying for me and for his infant if it were the case.” Eunhye brushed it aside easily, “I believe it shall be best to wait just a small while longer... Until he is settled into his position.”

 

Hwayah nodded her head in response to the excuse. Eunhye knew the woman was smart, even if that was something so frequently overlooked by those who condescend her. Many who had passed through the Palace over the years did not spare her much attention, while whispers passed between mouth and ear of the King's pretty whore, and the mother of his bastard child. To them her mind held as much worth as her blood, and no one stopped to consider what words where spoken to her in the sanctuary of the King's chamber. Her understanding of Huingol far exceeded that of many others, and her knowledge was safely concealed by an assumption of ignorance. In all Hwayah's experience, Eunhye was certain she had heard the same rumours that passed through the palace halls, she knew of Himchan's infidelity.

 

“I do not wish for many things.” The lady said. They passed by an open door and the chill wind whipped around them, stirring Hwayah's long hair and blowing it around her face, “I do not want gold or wealth, nor do I have any need for material goods or land... I just want my children to be happy. I must ask you, my dear Eunhye-ah... Is Himchan happy?”

 

Jung Eunhye turned to the mother of her husband and found herself unable to find the words to comfort her. With a heavy tongue, she licked her lips and glanced to the lady who's step was so rhythmic beside hers, “He is, Madame.” She did not know if she was lying, she did not know if she trusted her own words. The truth was, that she found herself not knowing Himchan at all anymore.

 

“I do so sincerely hope you are right.” They rounded a corner of the long hall, and their footsteps slowed to a stop beside a wide chestnut door. Eunhye had not ventured into these parts of the palace since the death of their beloved King, nor had she seen her husband's study since he had taken residence in it, hiding away and only very rarely seeing her. Hwayah's hand raised and she rapped her knuckles gently against the hard wood, and both women waited in silence for answer.

 

“You may enter.” Himchan's voice was muffled through the door, but it was clear enough that the elder woman pushed it slowly open and they stepped over the threshold.

 

Himchan was seated in a broad chair, his brow creased in concentration as his eyes focused on a document before him, while he held the stem of a brush poised and ready to write in his hand. Before him papers were spread out in what seemed like little order, with an ink pot not far beyond. Eunhye saw none of this, as her eyes instead landed upon the familiar arched spines of four clay horses, standing together in a line. Her gaze traced the chipped ear of one, then the rough side of another as uncertainty pooled in her belly.

 

“Mother, Eunhye-ah...” he said, his voice sounding warm, but his wife could hear the strain that tugged at the edge of his words, “To what do I owe this visit?”

 

“Do a man's mother and wife need an excuse to come and see him?” Hwayah asked with a smile, crossing the room and leaning forward to press her lips against his cheek. His smile grew more genuine and he emitted a soft laugh, his own lips pressing to her cheek in return of the affection, while his palm brushed along her arm.

 

“I am simply surprised to see you, Mother.” He said, setting his brush aside on a small plate while his gaze shifted to his wife, “It is a pleasure to see you, too, Eunhye-ah.”

 

“I am sure you two think of one another much during the day.” Hwayah said with a small laugh, glancing between the young pair. She shook her head and withdrew her hands from where they brushed over her son's shoulders, “It must be hard to spend days apart, when I am sure you merely wish to be back in one another's embrace.”

 

The corner of Himchan's lips twitched and he emitted a forced chuckle, shaking his head, “Young lovers do desire to dream, Mother.” He replied.

 

“You always did say that those who dream are most beautiful to you.” Eunhye added, and once more her husband's eyes met hers.

 

“I did.” He replied.

 

“Take a rest from your work for a little while, Himchan-ah...” Hwayah said, glancing between them, then stepping back towards the door. Slowly she opened it, withdrawing into the hall, “I shall send for tea.”

 

The door fell closed with a thud, leaving the married pair closer than they had been in what felt like an age. Eunhye moved closer to her husband, licking her lower lip as she made towards the edge of the desk, “You have been busy of late?” She asked.

 

Himchan nodded, “Yes... In General Kwon's absence there is much for me to look over. Lord Shin arrived in the city yesterday, with him he brought news from the North.” The Master General's hand lifted and he slowly rubbed at his forehead, “With General Moon's death, things have grown a tad complicated. There is a lot for me to consider, and to be done.”

 

Eunhye paused, her eyes widening, “The General who was killed was Moon?” She asked, a hand lifting to touch her chest. She had not known the man well, but on the few occasions they had met he always treated her with such warmth and kindness. It was not him her mind lingered upon however, but instead her gaze shifted towards the small clay horses and her heart ached for the friend she had known for so few months but who she held so close to her heard, and who had disappeared without word into the night only a few days before, “I did not know.”

 

Himchan's expression was solemn, and his gaze also shifted to the horses lined upon his desk. Carefully, he extended a hand, using the very tip of his finger to rub at the animal's nose as though the cold stone brought him a kind of comfort, “Lord Kwon has yet to return to Huingol.” He said.

 

Eunhye nodded her head and reached out her own hand just as Himchan withdrew his. Slowly she traced her fingers over the spine of the stallion sitting nearest to her and in the corner of her eye, she noticed the way Himchan's shoulders tensed. Her throat felt thick with an emotion she could not quite place and her nail scratched feather light at the side of the creature, “I did not think I would see the treasured possession of a servant boy seated pride of place on my husband's desk.”

 

It was like ice moved through Himchan's very body as every one of his muscles grew tight, his expression guarded as he turned to her. The Himchan who now sat behind the desk and watched her was not a man she recognised, and for a moment she felt discomfort under the intensity of his gaze, “How do you know who the owner of these statues is?”

 

“Moon Jongup is not a ghost, Oppa.” She said in reply, “It is not shocking that I would know his face.”

 

“I am not surprised that you know his face, it is his possessions I do not understand. To have seen these you would have entered his bedchamber.” Himchan's voice was tense with an ill-suppressed anger, his palm curving around the horses, as though protecting their bodies from her prying eyes.

 

“Why do you speak to me as though my behaviour must be explained when it is not I who displays his horses!” Eunhye emitted a soft laugh of disbelief.

 

Himchan hesitated at her question. It was clear that he was trying to regain control of his breaths as he sucked them in slowly, his chest rising and falling with every movement, “I did not know you were acquainted with him.” He said finally.

 

“You do not know a thing about me anymore.” Eunhye bit back to him, her lips twisting in frustration then admitting, “He is my friend.”

 

The General's brow quirked as he looked at her, “Your _friend_?” he asked, “And is it common for you to visit the bedchambers of your _friends_?”

 

“Is it common for you to display the personal trinkets of your brother's Assistants?” She asked, her lips pursed as she looked to her Husband, “Do not think for one moment that I am unaware just whom takes my place in your bed, Himchan. I have heard the whispers, I know the rumours of maids, servant boys, cooks, stable hands. I know you do not lie alone in our bed every night.”

 

“And? What of it?” Her husband asked back. His tone was defensive, his shoulders taught still as he watched her.

 

“Do not speak to me of my entrance into Jongup's chamber, or my friendship with him as though I have been in any way indecent.” Eunhye said and her voice began to shake, “Why should I explain myself when it is clearly not me who has a much more ambiguous relationship with him. Is he another of your whores?”

 

Himchan's lip curled and he pushed himself to stand, “Don't you _dare_ use that word in reference to him, Eunhye, or so help me God.”

 

“Do not threaten me, Himchan! Nor should you speak as though I have no reason to assume such a thing with every word that passes through the palace in regards to your infidelity!” Eunhye's silks rustled as she took a step closer towards him, her waist almost pressed against the desk, “If he is not a whore of yours then what? Is he a friend, a comrade? Someone you have shared many hours of council with?”

 

“Enough!” Himchan said, “I do not want to discuss this.”

 

“Why is this a topic worth keeping from me?” Eunhye's tone was exasperated.

 

“Because you would not understand!” The man pressed back, shooting her a flame filled look.

 

“I have listened to your nonsense turmoil since you were a _child_ Himchan! Why would I be any less capable of understanding your mind now than I was then?”

 

“Because this is not the case of a bitter conflict between me and my brother or my sister or my ever pushing father. This is not a simple concern of any innocent nature! In the eyes of many this would be my greatest failure and my greatest weakness, that I the master General has fallen apart all because the love of a _peasant._ A lady of your standing I'm sure would be repulsed at such an idea.” His tone was bitter and he emitted a laugh, pushing aside crumpled documents as he collapsed back into his chair.

 

Eunhye paused at the words, feeling them run across her skin. For a long time she wondered how it would feel, to have the words said to her that her husband, a man she had cared for so deeply since almost infancy, had fell into love with another. When she looked again to Himchan, she knew that he was merely another version of herself. The lady shook her head and released a slow sigh, “When we were children you were more a brother to me than a friend. We never should have been married, Himchan. It was that which had been an instrument of bringing us together that tore us so brutally apart.”

 

The Prince lifted his eyes and looked towards her, his expression confused and she continued, “I understand more than you could imagine. Do not think yourself so grand that you were the only one to find a lover in all these years.”

 

Himchan emitted a snort and he rubbed slowly at his forehead, “I am not surprised. You are beautiful, I can imagine half the palace is in love with you.”

 

“I am sure many servants across the palace are in love with you, as well.” She said, “Though I never did anticipate Jongup to be one of them.”

 

“He does not love me. I hurt him, I made a grave mistake and he has no time for my apologies.” Himchan replied, his voice sad even as he attempted to conceal the pain with a weak smile. He shrugged his shoulders once and turned once more towards her, “He has gone to the city, and I shall remain here. We are where we belong.”

 

Eunhye watched as Himchan slumped defeatedly in his chair, his fingers gently extending to once more nudge at the small statues. With a soft sigh, she tipped her head, “In all these years having you as my husband, I missed having you as my friend.”

 

The curve of Himchan's lips grew more genuine as he glanced up at her, “Then let us be friends once more.”

 

“I would like that.” She nodded, taking in a slow breath. Outside, the wind was picking up and the first autumn leaf fell, gliding through the air and landing upon tile. “I should return to my chambers, I do have things that require my attention, and it would be best to leave before your mother returned.”

 

“I understand.” The prince spoke as she withdrew from him and made towards the door, “And Eunhye-ah?” Himchan's voice had her turning. His eyes were tired, his smile soft, “I hope he treats you well.”

 

The woman's own lips tugged into a smile and as she slipped from the room she replied, “She does.”

 

*

 

The world was spread out before Jongup. The tips of his fingers traced slowly along narrow and twisting rivers, his knuckles nudged at mountain ranges that stood tall and proud, towering over the wide plains that spread towards the sea. Worn and aged paper rustled under his fingertips as he turned his sights to the small waves drawn with care on the parchment, breaking against the sea cliffs with majesty he couldn't envisage. For just a moment, Jongup closed his eyes and tried to imagine how the salt wind would feel against his face, or how the scent of ocean spray would carry high into the air. In his minds eye, he tried to gather every drawing or painting he had seen to visualise how large the ocean was, and how small it would make him feel in turn. He came up with nothing.

 

The soldier shifted upon the worn chair he was seated in. It was this chair that sat by his father's desk for as long as he could remember. He knew that if he looked at the back leg, he would see scratches in the wood from an afternoon spend rough-housing with his brothers as children, or if his gaze found the underside he would see the slight tear in the lining. The cushioned seat was dented from his father's weight, and he felt as though his body did not quite fit. Nothing seemed to fit anymore.

 

Once again, his eyes found the map before him and he followed the roads from Huingol with the tip of his finger, tracing them as they twisted north across the peninsula and into the formidable mountains that lined the border with Zhonghua. Small towns were marked between the rocky giants, and finally he found the village where he needed to go. The village where his father had died, and where his brother might yet still be alive.

 

With one hand, he pulled over a blank piece of parchment and carefully took a small brush from where it lay stationary by an ink pot. As he dipped the dry bristles into the black ink, he watched as they softened and absorbed it, as though coming once more to life. In studious silence he wrote down what he saw upon the map, tracing along roads as they curled through waiting trees like searching snakes through the underbrush.

 

“What are you doing?” Jonghwan's voice was steady but strong as it broke through the silence. Jongup's hand froze and he turned to glance over his shoulder towards his elder brother, he had not even heard the door open.

 

“What needs to be done.” He said. Jonghwan looked beyond his stern gaze to the maps spread across the desk below the simple window, and the parchment on which his brother wrote. The elder man's brows furrowed and his lips pursed as he already began shaking his head.

 

“Are you a fool? You think you can go there alone?” He asked, voice hushed into a harsh whisper. Strong hands reached forward, grabbing at the maps and folding them back haphazardly, all while lips turned down into a frown, “You would be killed.”

 

“So are we simply supposed to leave Jongin there?” Jongup asked, pushing himself to stand.

 

“Sacrificing your life in hope of somehow saving his makes very little sense. What would happen if you were injured as well? Do you think you would be capable of bringing both yourself and Jongin home safely?” Jonghwan's eyes were filling with an enraged fire, his jaw tense as he tried desperately to keep his voice down, “You will not make our mother lose more than she has already lost.”

 

“We can't leave him there!” Jongup ground back. Jonghwan lurched forward and reached for the parchment on which his brother had been writing. His fingers curled into it, smearing the damp ink and crumpling the paper into nothing, the words no longer legible.

 

“I will not become a single child, Jongup, I will not.” His words were hard, even as feeling swelled in his eyes, “I won't let you go.”

 

The youngest Moon child exhaled a sharp breath through his nose. He couldn't look at Jonghwan as tears formed in his elder brother's eyes, he couldn't stand in this study that was so full of everything that made their father the man he was. The air was suffocating, his chest felt tight and so he pushed past Jonghwan and fled their home towards the stable.

 

A breeze swirled around him and caused the shutters high in the stable rafters to clatter and bang. General Moon's beloved mare lifted her head as Jongup approached, but soon was returning her nose into the hay around her feet. She shifted, her tail swishing to bat away curious flies as she searched for something to chew on between the yellow straw. Jongup wondered how long until the clouds parted and rain no longer threatened to fall.

 

“I'm sure you would like to leave the city for a while, Dabin-ah.” He murmured, his hand sliding over the mare's side. She paid him no mind as she continued in her search while he reached for a nearby brush. The weight of it was familiar in his hand and slowly he began to smooth firm rhythms against her side, the harsh bristles scratching against her coat and massaging the hide underneath, “I know Papa used to take you out of the city whenever he could. He won't be able to do that anymore... But Jonghwan and I can, even Mama if she would like to.

 

“A strong military horse like you will take a while to settle back into domestic life. It will be a great relief to Mama though, to have you. She will need someone to help her carry produce from the market, or even help around here. I'm sure she hopes to give you a good life, now that Papa can't.” A sigh passed his lips. Dabin swished her tail and emitted a snort, turning her head once to glance back at him. Jongup chuckled softly and wound an arm around her neck, “You're too old for war anyway. If you had gone with Papa north, I'm sure you would have passed from exhaustion before you even made it to Lord Shin's compound. It made sense for your foal to go in your stead.”

 

A different kind of sadness moved across Jongup as he remembered his treasured colt, a babe bore to this very mare only a few Summers before. His throat felt suddenly tight but still he could not cry. It was like he could not remember how.

 

“I know Jonghwan cares, and he is right in his fear but Jongin... I'm scared for him, Dabin-ah.” The soldier murmured the words into her neck, listening to the rumble of sounds coming from her chest, “I don't think he is ever coming home.”

 

Once again, the wind picked up and shutters banged, causing Dabin to grow unsettled. She shifted where she stood, snorting once into the cold air with her tail swishing and her skin twitching in agitation. Jongup cooed to her softly under his breath, rubbing at her withers with a firm palm, “Shhh... It's okay. Nothing is going to harm you.” Air whistled through the rafters, and Jongup could only just make out the sound of feet on hay over its haunting tune. He released a slow breath through his nose, “Don't worry, Jonghwan. I'm not attempting to sneak away.”

 

“You already disappeared in the night to come here, Jongup-ah. I would not be surprised if it were your intention to disappear from the city altogether.” The soft feminine voice was all too familiar, and yet it was one Jongup had never anticipated hearing here.

 

The soldier's arm withdrew from where it was encircled around his father's Mare and he turned, facing the figure who stood cloaked in indigo in the doorway. Jung Eunhye was tall and slender, but if Jongup did not know her voice, he would be unable to recognise her with the hood brought over her head. He bowed his towards her, expression schooled as he greeted, “My Lady.”

 

“When I was told you had disappeared during the night I was concerned, but when neither Daehyun nor Yongguk seemed so surprised by it I guess I realised that even if I believed I understood you, I did not know you as well as I may once have thought.” Gloved hands withdrew from the cloak and pulled the hood from where it covered her head. Her hair was tied back in a simple braid, and beneath her outer wear, Jongup could see her clothing was simple linen, rather than the more extravagant silks he had seen her wear within the Palace.

 

“I never intended to make you worry, Madame.” Jongup replied simply.

 

Eunhye's lips twitched into a smile and she looked slowly around, “At first I thought there had to be a good explanation, and so when I found out your father had died... I was sure it explained all.” She continued, her palms pressing together as she took in the bales of hay stacked against the far wall, and the two other horses that grazed by them, “But when I spoke to my husband, I realised how naïve I had been.”

 

Jongup's body went deathly still at her words, and once more her gaze returned to him. When he did not speak, she continued, “I have heard many rumours in the Palace of Himchan's lovers, but I never anticipated one of them would be my friend.”

 

“I did not know how I would tell you.” Jongup said to her, his palm smoothing along Dabin's side as she once more grew agitated.

 

“But you knew.” Eunhye replied, “You knew I was his wife.”

 

“I did.” There was no point in lying, not now.

 

The lady nodded her head, her lips twisting as she thought. Jongup watched as she turned her gaze down to the hay nestled around her leather shoes, her feet shifting as she exhaled a slow breath, “He told me you are not returning.”

 

Jongup's spine straightened and his arm curved finally around Dabin, her head nudging at his stomach as she once more shifted, “My father-”

 

“Your father would have encouraged you to keep your word.” Eunhye cut him off, “I cannot claim to have known the General well, but he was a man of honour. He would not want for you to turn your back on all the palace has to offer you, and your family. I understand how his passing posed as a catalyst for your fleeing, but is it a reason not to return?”

 

“Did Himchan send you?” Jongup asked, his voice tense.

 

“Himchan does not know I am here.” Eunhye replied, her eyes following his movements as she took a step closer, “You may not have lied to me, but you did keep something hidden. Your affair with my husband was a secret held close to your chest, and I do not believe that was merely because he asked it of you. I know you love him in return.”

 

“What I feel is of no relevance when he is the one who so easily dismissed me to his brother as a whore.” Jongup replied, his own voice hard.

 

“Himchan is a fool.” She said easily, “He speaks without thought, spurred by his fear of losing those who his words end up causing pain. Whatever it was he spoke that cut you so, he would not have meant it.”

 

“Then why has he done nothing?” Jongup asked, shaking his head, “All he has offered me is harsh words of jealousy and possession, _nothing_ to insinuate his true feelings. He claims what he feels is love, but then gives me nothing to prove that to be so.”

 

“He loves you, Jongup, and if it is doubt of that which keeps you from the palace, then reconsider every moment he has spent by your side. Every time he has held you in his arms, gazed upon your face, spoken of your beauty.” She took yet another step closer, “He will have no way to apologise for his idiocy if you do not face him!”

 

“Whether Himchan loves me or not, I cannot return!” Jongup said again. “My brother is missing and I am sure he is dead!”

 

“Jongup?” Gayeong's voice trembled with uncertainty from the door. Both the Princess and the Soldier turned their heads to look at the woman, her face red flushed and her brows furrowed as she looked with concern between the two, “I heard shouting...”

 

“Everything is fine.” Jongup said. His lips parted to continue, but Eunhye cut him off.

 

“I apologise, Madame.” She said, glancing once more back to Jongup, “I was just leaving.”

 

Jonghwan appeared in the doorway beside their mother just as the Lady drew her hood once more over her head, stepping towards the door, “Think on my words, Jongup-ah.” Was all she said in farewell as she stepped out into the sun, and disappeared into the city.

 

“Jongup... Do you-” Gayeong said, Jonghwan's hand finding her shoulder, “Do you really think that Jongin is not coming home?” She asked.

 

The youngest child sucked in a sharp breath and stepped towards the exit, “Jongup what the hell is going on?” Jonghwan's voice cut off his younger brother's retreat.

 

“I have told you I will not discuss it.” Jongup bit back, his eyes fixing to his brother's with anger.

 

“You arrive here in the middle of the night and refuse to return. Palace cooks and the Prince's wife are coming to speak with you!” Jonghwan's own anger was evident but the younger moon merely stepped past them with an aggravated growl.

 

“For once in your life leave me alone!” He snapped as he crossed the courtyard and towards their home, the door slamming behind him.

 

Rain fell through the night and most of the following day, and it did not take long for word to spread of three cloaked men riding from Huingol. Their hooves clattered against stone until they were free from the city restraints and disappeared like ghosts into the dark forests surrounding the sleeping golden city. No one was sure where it was they ventured to, but rumours told that among them was the Prince, a sword strapped to his hip and his stallion urged on with the strength of Noeul.

 

Looming clouds looked as though they were not willing to part, and even with the sun high upon it's heavenly mantle, the day remained dark and threatening. Jongup locked himself in his bedchamber, his mind unable to halt in its desperate searching. He could not be sure if it was day or night or that place in between when it was both and neither all at once and he begged for the mercy of sleep to find him, but every time he closed his eyes his mind grew dark. His dreams showed him the forest he had always so desperately loved, where between knotted roots, the bodies of the Summer's cicadas had decayed into nothing more than grains of soil, long since having ceased to resemble life. Everything seemed dark and menacing as he was dragged out from his nightmare forest and pulled into the ocean. He fought to keep his head above water, but he was dragged under again and again until he was so deep he could no longer see the moon's comforting shine, or feel the waves in their gentle lull. Water filled his lungs and stifled any calls for help as he was pulled so deep that he could no longer fight and succumbed instead to silence.

 

It was before dawn on the third day when the heavy rhythm of a fist to wood awoke him. For a moment, he was confused and left gasping for breath as the ocean's cold chill released its hold from him and he was instead met with the stuffy discomfort of his bedchamber. He looked around with a muddled mind until once more the pounding came, followed soon by footsteps and voices.

 

“Mama... Wait let me.” Jonghwan could be heard, and Jongup sat up. Slowly, he shifted over the mattress and dragged himself to stand. His body was slick with sweat, and he wore nothing but his linen sleep pants as he stepped from his chamber and towards the noise.

 

Gayeong held her robe closed around her, hair hanging loose at her shoulders while Jonghwan pulled the bolt of the door to their modest home. The man froze as a tall figure, easily recognisable stood in the darkness, his chest heaving with exertion and his body clad in simple leather armour with a sword against his hip.

 

“Your Highness...” Gayeong greeted, her hand curling around Jonghwan's forearm as once again Jongup found it hard to breathe.

 

“Forgive me for waking you, but I am here with urgency.” Prince Himchan said, his voice clear through the dark. His gaze flicked from Gayeong to Jonghwan, until finally it was pulled to Jongup like the moon pulls the tide, “It's about Jongin.” He said, once their eyes finally met, “I've found him.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're almost there x


	13. Chapter 13

Under a dark sky, Huingol slept. The only light that illuminated the streets were lanterns hanging from bolts in stone walls while every window was dim, and not a single person was to be seen. The air was crisp and cold, and a fine layer of frost was forming over the gravel streets as Jongup's leather shoes crunched against stone as he walked with his family towards the silent palace.

 

The soldier felt as though he were in a frantic daze, unable to quite shake the drowsiness that gnawed at his edges, threatening to have him stumbling for balance in his exhaustion. Once their Prince had spoken to them of his findings, Gayeong had entered a state of panic and it was with Himchan's help that they managed to get her dressed and sitting astride the Prince's strong stallion. Jongup could tell that Honggyu was exhausted, but still he walked steadily through the silent city.

 

The four emerged from darkness into the capital's wide square just as the sun began to lick at the very tops of the surrounding mountains, creating an eerie glow through the gloomy mist that suffocated the concealed peaks. Himchan's hands were gentle as he gripped Gayeong's waist and assisted her back to her feet, none of the four speaking as they made hastily towards the towering building and once more faded into darkness.

 

Few guards and servants walked through the halls, and Jongup felt more relaxed than he had anticipated in the familiarity of a place that had only briefly been his home. He followed Himchan's lead, glancing down as he felt his mother's hand slip into his and he squeezed, hoping that the pressure would offer her some comfort, and maybe give him some the same.

 

“Where is he?” Gayeong asked, breaking the silence and up ahead, Himchan glanced back over his shoulder, “Is he alright?” She asked the question none of them had yet been brave enough to ask just as the prince pulled open the door that lead towards the intimate chambers beyond.

 

“He is in my bed chamber.” He said, allowing them entrance. Jongup paused for just a moment and glanced towards the General, his lips parting to speak, but closing soon after, “He is very strong, your son, but he is not well. I would have taken him immediately to you, but instead I chose to bring him here, where I know the Valley's best physicians can tend to him. When day comes, I'll have my mother prepare a chamber but until then, this is the best place for him to be.”

 

Jonghwan's eyes were severe as he watched the Prince, his focus flicking between him and his own little brother with uncertainty pooling in his stomach. All together, they came to a halt before a door that was so familiar to Jongup that it brought an ache forward in his chest that he had been trying so desperately to ignore. Gayeong stepped in first, followed next by Jonghwan but the youngest of the Moon children hesitated. His head turned and his onyx eyes landed on Himchan's face, finally noticing how tired he seemed. He looked as though he had not slept in weeks, but still remained the gentle softness that had Jongup wishing he could fall into him all over again.

 

Jongup wondered what there was he could say, a mere _thank you_ could not be quite enough and Himchan simply smiled before the soldier could speak, “He was wounded in the battle that claimed your father, but he managed to flee with his life. His injuries are grave, it is a miracle he survived long enough for me to find him.” Even as he spoke, Himchan could not remove his eyes from Jongup's face, drinking in every angle and curve of him finally, “Prepare your heart for what you will see.”

 

“Hyung...” Jongup began, but his tongue felt like lead.

 

“Go to him, Jongup-ah...” The General said and took a step back, “There are things I must see to. Be with him.”

 

“Jongup?” Gayeong called from where she knelt by Jongin's side. The man turned his head and glanced back towards her, and Himchan moved to disappear into the dark hall again. The young soldier carefully crossed the room and stood beside his mother, his hand finding her shoulder as finally he looked upon his brother's face and his stomach churned.

 

Jongin's skin was ghostly pale, his dark hair filthy and caked with blood and dirt while his cheeks seemed hollow. Across the side of his head was a deep gash, striking across his right eye and disfiguring the face that Jongup knew was so alike his own. It was swollen and red, Jongup was sure it had become infected after going so long without treatment, and an elderly Physician donned in black robes stood by the bed, pressing some kind of healing tonic into the skin. Gayeong was speaking under her breath while she began stroking through her eldest son's hair, trying to hold in her emotions as his skin twitched and he shifted under the pain the Physician's formulas were no doubt inflicting upon him. At a firm press of linen into flesh, Jongin groaned once and moved again on the mattress, his weakened body trying to move away from that which tormented him even in his sleep.

 

“Oh my god...” Jonghwan said, his face contorting in horror as he stepped closer to their mother's side and slowly Jongup followed his gaze. At the end of Jongin's left arm, blood drenched bandages were wrapped tightly around the brutally hacked limb where his hand had once been.

 

“ _The river is flowing out to the sea, down to where the waves meet the shore, and the wind surrounds the fishermen with a terrible roar. Don't you worry, little angel, do not cry, because Mama is here for you right by your side.”_ Gayeong began to sing gently as her first born child emitted whimpers of pain in his semi-conscious state, _“For even as the ocean will drown searching men, your Mama will love you again and again.”_

 

“Will he live?” Jonghwan asked, his throat thick as the Physician's head rose, watching the second of the three children for a moment.

 

“If the infection does not spread he might,” his words did little to offer the family comfort. The elderly man returned his focus to his patient, not allowing his sounds or movements to prevent him from continuing his work, “His right eye will be blind, and his left arm useless, but if he survives until first snow and the infection remains contained then he will survive at least until the spring melt.”

 

As Jongin emitted a gargled sound of agony from the bed, Jongup turned in search for something, _anything_ that would offer him relief. He turned to the chest that he knew housed Himchan's clothing, then the desk where his jewels and treasures resided. In the corner he saw the Janggu Himchan had once played him, early in the evening as he lay naked upon the mattress.

 

The prince had pulled from his side, and Jongup had groaned a sound of protest, _“Hyung...”_ he had whined, his chest against the mattress, a summer breeze cooling the sweat that still was beaded upon his skin, _“hyung come back..._ ”

 

Himchan's lips had curved into a smile as he traced his teasing tongue over his diamond's skin, brushing his lips to moles and scars, grazing his teeth against the skin that was softer. The chuckle he emitted was low, his voice husky from the groans of desperate pleasure he had been singing not moments before, _“And why do you want me to come back?”_ He asked with a teasing smirk as he withdrew completely from his love's side. He crossed the room, naked and unashamed to the window, with taught muscles stretching, _“Have I not worn you out yet?”_

 

The soldier did not respond, he simply lay his cheek down against the mattress, his hands stretched above his head with knuckles brushing against the headboard. He watched as Himchan's foot nudged at the Janggu that sat against the wall, the man glancing down at it, _“Hyung...”_ Jongup murmured his title again, Himchan looked back over his shoulder _._ The man did not need to ask for an elaboration as he grabbed his treasured instrument from the floor and brought it with him towards the bed. With linen sheets pulled into his lap, Himchan played a rhythm that thrummed from his chest and Jongup watched with a focused gaze. There was something so raw about the way Himchan played for him, as though exposing a part of himself that was not often shown to the world beyond the four walls that surrounded them now.

 

The song ended with a kiss, and once more the lovers found themselves entangled in the sheets and in one another.

 

Jongup jumped as a hand found his shoulder, pulling from the hold and moving defensively to face the man who so touched him. Jonghwan's brows were furrowed, his lips turned downwards into a frown as he said, “Jongup it's just me...” The boy turned his head again and saw the dust that had gathered on the Janggu's worn skin, and finally to the bed to watch the blood of his brother seep into the clean white sheets that had once been his sanctuary, the place where he felt so safe and so incredibly loved.

 

Shadows crept in from every corner as the rhythm of the Janggu thrumming in his mind was once again replaced by Jongin's agonised whimpers. His chest felt tight and his throat thick as he stepped back and towards the door.

 

Jongup ignored the shouts of his name as he fled the darkness that threatened to devour him, his footsteps echoing as he escaped the empty halls and stepped into the sun.

 

*

 

The scent of hay was comforting, and Jongup wasn't quite sure why. Maybe it could be attributed to the Summer nights years ago that he would spend curled up upon the dry straw, taking rest with the family horses he had loved so much. Dabin's pregnancy had been hard, and as a boy Jongup had loved staying by her side late at night, hands rubbing against her rounded stomach where he could just feel the outline of her foal, restless in his eagerness to get out. Boyeon had been that way ever since he was a newborn, curious and energetic. Jongup remembered with fondness the first time he had taken his growing weanling out of the city gates to explore the green fields and a nearby wood with curious eyes. He had pranced with joy under the warm sun while Jongup watched with Dabin, the Mare content to merely feed from the fresh grass while her child experienced freedom.

 

Briefly, he wondered if Boyeon had known that death was coming, if the colt had been afraid in the end. Boyeon had been too young to die, and already guilt bit at Jongup's insides. If it were not for him, the growing beast would still be alive, and maybe so too would his father.

 

Behind him, a cart rattled and drew him from the thoughts that pulled too much darkness into his already clouded mind. He sat perched on the wooden fence separating Boyeon's stall from the rest of the bustling stables, his feet set on a parallel beam below. It was a comfort to him that nothing had changed in the stable, the one last place in the palace he could find comforting.

 

Standing in Boyeon's stall was the white foal gifted to Himchan some months before. She was still small, with a black stripe up her nose that Jongup was sure she would grow out of. He guessed it made sense to have her here, residing beside the King's own prized Mare, pride of place in the royal stables. He watched the way her tail swished as she chewed lazily on grain offered to her in a cloth bag, her nose reaching into it with eager excitement.

 

“I thought I would find you here.” Jongup's head lifted at the easily recognisable sound of Himchan's voice. The young soldier watched as the prince advanced towards him, he had washed and was donned in deep brown silk robes. They were not as extravagant as most of what Himchan owned, but with his hair still damp from steam, he looked comfortable, soft. For a moment, all Jongup wanted to do was melt into his arms and take comfort from his freshly washed skin but he couldn't do that. He'd lost that right.

 

“I did not know you were searching for me.” He said, turning back to watch Nari as the foal lifted her snow white head and looked back towards her royal master. Himchan's hands touched the wooden beam that kept him separate from the foal, and leant carefully against it. He was close enough to touch, but Jongup did not close the distance.

 

“I passed by the chamber and your brother seemed distressed at your disappearance. He is worried for you.” The conversation felt so easy, even if the topic still brought hurt rippling through Jongup's very being.

 

“He has worried too much of late.” He sighed out in response. He lifted a palm and rubbed it against his forehead, then over his eyes.

 

“He had good reason to.” Himchan's tone was sympathetic, his eyes sad as he gazed towards Nari.

 

“One less reason now.” Jongup replied, “With my brother home, I am hopeful that my mother will sleep again.”

 

“As pleased as I am to know of your mother's relief, I did not do it for her.” A small bird, a swallow, flew through the wide and open stable doors to perch upon the rafters high above their heads. Jongup tilted his head back to look at the small animal as it peered down towards him, and Himchan watched as Jongup's adam's apple bobbed when he swallowed. The elder man shifted slightly, his muscles ached from the days of riding, but he knew there was no where on the peninsula he would rather be, “How is Jongin?”

 

“He is half blind and maimed.” Jongup said, Himchan had guessed this much after carrying a barely conscious Jongin with him upon Honggyu's back overnight, desperately trying to bind his arm in hopes of preventing him from finally bleeding out. Jongup continued, “But he is alive. Your physician says that if he makes it to first snow, he will survive the winter.”

 

The Prince nodded his head, using the tip of his index finger to drag strands of his ebony hair from his face, “Kwon's cowardice is inexcusable.” He said, jaw clenching at the mention of the name.

 

“When you rode from Huingol... Rumour told it was in search of him.” Jongup said.

 

“Once I found Jongin, I turned back alone.” The prince confirmed, “Those I rode with continued on in search of him with the intention of bringing him back.”

 

“Will he be punished?” Jongup's voice was quiet.

 

Himchan drew in a deep breath, unsure of how to answer. The Kwon brothers held an important position not only in the Huingol court, but in the North of the Peninsula, and bringing a punishment down upon the General would only anger his powerful brother. “Jongup...” Himchan began, his throat thick with the guilt that had taken residence in his stomach. There was so much he had done wrong, and so much he wished to have done differently. “Jongup I'm sorry.”

 

“It wasn't your fault.” The soldier replied, and Himchan nodded.

 

“Nor was it yours.” He said knowingly. Jongup turned away, his eyes fluttering slightly as he tried to resist his own guilty conscience. Himchan continued, “I would never have sent your father if I knew it was such a risk.”

 

“He was a General.” Jongup replied with a taught voice, “You should not exclude him just because I'm...” He hesitated, lips turning down into a frown as he searched for the words he needed, swallowing the sudden thickness in his throat “Just because you...”

 

“You can say it, Jongup. Leaving the words unsaid makes them no less true” Himchan's lips were curved into a sad smile, his eyes anywhere but the diamond boy by his side.

 

“You should not exclude him from his duty just because you love me.” Something in Himchan broke at the sound of those words uttered in Jongup's voice, he had never quite heard anything else sound as beautiful. Jongup turned his head and glanced towards the elder man, gaze guarded once more, his expression blank, “I did not believe you meant it when you said it to me.”

 

“I hardly gave you much reason to.” Himchan replied, dismissing any apology Jongup wished to offer him.

 

“But I should have.” Jongup spoke again, shaking his head as Nari approached them. Her nose nudged at his ankle, then lifted to rest against his inner thigh. Gently, the soldier traced the curve of her left ear, then scratched behind it, eliciting a groan of pleasure at the touch, “I know you better than to allow lies to poison my head.”

 

“Doubt is a terrifying thing.” The prince replied, Jongup smiled sadly as he looked down to the affectionate foal.

 

“I don't feel doubt anymore.” Nari's tail swished to bat away nosy flies while her lashes fluttered and she turned her gaze towards Himchan. He made a soft sound as he reached to her, rubbing his palm with gentle affection across her nose, then scratching beneath her chin. His fingers brushed Jongup's thigh, and the simple touch had him pausing. It had been far too long since his fingers took purchase on Jongup's topaz flesh.

 

“I discovered that my wife is in love.” Himchan said, “But you knew that.”

 

Jongup smiled weakly, not tearing his eyes from Nari's own, “It was not my secret to tell.” With his lips spread across pearl teeth Himchan was reminded all over again how easy it was to fall in love with Moon Jongup. Nari pulled back and whinnied, her tail swishing as she lifted her front feet from the ground and stamped them again down onto the hay, seeking attention of the men who were far too focused on one another. The playful nature reminded him of his own lost companion and his expression grew sad, “She truly is beautiful.”

 

“She's yours.” Himchan replied.

 

Jongup turned with surprised eyes, his brows raised as Nari once more approached him, “What?” he asked, his hands automatically finding her, fingers gently stroking through her mane for as long as she could stay still.

 

“She is yours.” The prince repeated, “She's merely a weanling, it will be a while before she is large enough and strong enough to carry an adult's weight, but she is of wonderful breeding and I am sure she will grow strong.”

 

“She was a gift to you.” Jongup said.

 

Himchan smiled, his knuckles brushing feather light against the outside of Jongup's thigh, “Honggyu and I are bonded too tightly to part, I want you to have her. I know she will be loved and cared for by your hand, I have seen the affection you bestowed upon your colt.”

 

With an exhale of breath, Jongup leant forward and pressed his forehead to Nari's own, brushing their noses together, “For many years to come, my beautiful love, we will be together.” he said, rubbing once more just behind her ear. The familiar weight of Himchan's palm pressed to the centre of Jongup's back as he whispered sweet words to the tired weanling, promising her a lifetime of his love.

 

“I missed you,” Himchan confessed into the mid-morning chill. Finally, Jongup lifted his head and his onyx eyes found those of his prince. Slowly, the soldier lifted his hand from where it touched the loving foal in his lap to instead trace the tips of his fingers along Himchan's jaw. Stubble scratched at his skin and soon he was brushing his knuckles against the expanse of fair throat and neck nearby. Somewhere between his shoulder and nape, Himchan caught Jongup's wrist and drew up his hand to press his soft lips gently to the back of his palm, and he delighted in the way the soldier's lips quirked into the faintest offer of a smile.

 

“Your Highness.” A voice called from a little way back. Jongup's spine straightened and he withdrew his hand from Himchan's hold, watching as a uniform clad cleric approached, his forehead creased with his frown, “General Kwon has arrived.”

 

The hand against Jongup's back remained as Himchan nodded, taking comfort from the younger's warmth, “Have you told my brother?”

 

“We have, Your Highness.” The man's gaze moved beyond the prince to instead linger upon Jongup, then returned to Himchan, “His Majesty requested Kwon be taken to your study in the Military Wing before the Lord's and General's council is summoned.”

 

Himchan nodded once and with regret he pulled from Jongup's side, “I shall go there now.” He said, dismissing the cleric with a wave of his hand. He turned and glanced to his diamond boy, perched upon the fence with a stony expression. Jongup's mouth opened for just a moment, before he closed it again and Himchan knew what he wanted to ask.

 

“You may accompany me.” He said, “Your place is by our King's side, especially in such meetings.” Jongup nodde, dropping carefully to his feet and following the Prince back towards the Palace that towered so high above them. Through quiet halls they walked side by side, content in their silence. Servants passed them by, bowing to their Prince and glancing towards the soldier who stood by his side until they made it into the wide study deep in the military wing. Jongup had only been in there a few times before, usually accompanying the King on his rounds of the Palace, but there was something about it that felt so warm and familiar.

 

He took note of the robe that hung from the back of the ebony chair positioned behind the desk, offering the Prince the option of warmth as winter hung threateningly overhead, then took note of the man's favourite brush laying against a porcelain dish so as not to spread the drying ink across wasted parchment. As Jongup looked around the room, he noticed how it seemed as though Himchan had left days before without taking a moment to arrange his things, nor had he tidied away the documents on which he worked. Painted across the parchment were words abandoned mid sentence, and the familiar body of a clay horse lay turned upon its side, one foot almost touching the black ink that threatened to stain it.

 

Himchan stepped over towards the desk, his fingers curling with such tender care around the figurine and he brought it back to standing in formation, alongside the others. Jongup felt words swelling in his throat and spreading across his tongue when armour clattered outside and the King strode in. Behind Yongguk was a cleric, his fingers curved around a stylus as he took notes on a parchment board, the King's brow furrowed in concentration. He looked deep in thought, his body donned in silks of deep forest green as he took in the room that now surrounded him and then looked to Himchan.

 

“Brother, I am relieved to see you returning home safe.” He greeted, his tone somewhat more affectionate than Jongup had heard in what felt like a very long time. The gaze of their strong ruler next found the soldier, but there was no surprise or confusion, merely understanding held in the almost-black orbs, “Jongup-ah. I should have known you would join us.”

 

With one glance spared towards his diamond, Himchan turned towards their King, “I never considered returning in any state other than safe, Hyung.” He said, using the title he only rarely used since they had turned from boys to men.

 

“Still, Himchan-ah. I'm grateful to see you well. I understand your travelling North was fruitful?” He spared a single glance towards Jongup briefly, which Himchan saw.

 

“It was.” He replied with a simple nod, though his expression grew serious, “I know the journey of my companions was also fruitful.”

 

Yongguk nodded, “He was at his brother's compound. I sent for him to be brought here. Military matters must be settled by military men.” The man gestured to his cleric who extended the parchment held tightly in his hands towards the Prince who took it. Jongup watched the way Himchan unravelled the paper and glanced over the words, his brows raising at whatever was scrawled upon the page.

 

“You are certain you wish for me to put this in action, brother?” He asked.

 

“There is no one else whom I would trust.” Yongguk confirmed. Once again Himchan smiled and took a seat behind his desk, his fingers touching together in thought while Jongup tried to capture a glance of the parchment held still in his Prince's hand.

 

“It would be a pleasure.” He said.

 

Footsteps echoed down the hall outside and Yongguk lowered himself to sit in a simple chair nearby a bookcase, his cleric standing alongside him. His stance was powerful and watchful, but it was Himchan who held control of the room and as General Kwon stepped into the study, Jongup took position by the Prince's side.

 

The General who stood before them was not the man that had commanded Jongup during his days as an elite, nor was he that who had stood in council chambers donned in lavish silks, flaunting his wealth and birth status. This General was clad in simple cottons, his hair mussed from the ride, skin smeared with dirt. He had not been given time to wash nor change his attire since arriving back into Huingol, and upon his face he wore an expression of uncertainty masked behind confidence that all present could see through.

 

Himchan leant forward in his chair as the door was pulled closed by the guard who had escorted the man, and took his time in assessing him from head to toe. It was the first time Jongup had ever seen fear upon his old leader's face, and he would never admit how much pleasure it made him feel.

 

“General.” The Prince greeted, “I assume you enjoyed your time in your brother's compound?”

 

General Kwon's expression did not yet falter, “I was not far from his home, I deemed it a pleasant time to visit him, Your Highness.” The man said, his chest puffing out. Jongup noticed the way the elder man glanced towards the King, who sat silent and watchful to the side, “I saw my beautiful Niece in the North, Your Majesty, you will be pleased to know she has grown to become even more fair than you would remember.”

 

“If she is so fair, General, why don't _you_ marry her?” Himchan asked, his brow quirked. Kwon's forced smile fell into a scowl, but before he had the opportunity to search for a retort, the Prince continued, “So General you deemed it a pleasant time to visit your brother after you fled the mountains you were ordered to assess? You thought to yourself that as your men, as _Huingol's men_ lay bleeding in the dirt, family duty took precedent over the lives it was your role to protect.” The Prince's palms pressed flat to the top of the desk as he unfurled the scroll his brother had handed him, “As leader of Huingol's elite, General Kwon, it is _you_ who should stand strongest in the face of an enemy, and yet it was General Moon who lay his life down for the Peninsula while you fled like a bird into the sky.”

 

“I am a high-ranking General, the value of my blood-” Kwon began, but he was interrupted by Himchan slamming his palm down against the table.

 

“You are a coward!” He said, lips pursed, “And you are unfit to lead an army, let alone the Peninsula's greatest weapon.”

 

“What are you saying?” Kwon asked, his voice cold, his eyes sharp.

 

“The elite were created to protect the people of this nation. The strongest and most talented soldiers were selected from Huingol's army, which weakened its ranks and turned our infantry into arrow fodder while your disciplined men would take on the fight.” Himchan scoffed, shaking his head, “Your regimented training does not give any life more value than another, General Kwon, and segregating our army based on your _opinion_ of a soldier's worth will bring Huingol to a downfall. I am dissolving the elite, all of your soldiers shall return to the infantry ranks where they shall strengthen our core and solidify our military.”

 

“You cannot!” General Kwon's voice rose, his nostrils flared as anger lunged forward within him.

 

“Oh I can, and I will. The Lords and Generals are already gathering, we shall announce it within the hour.” Himchan replied, the tips of his fingers pressing together, “Your demotion will be as swift as it is humiliating. You will be assigned a selection of twenty men, no more, and your tasks across the peninsula will be mundane at best.”

 

The man's lip curled as he stepped forward, fingers clenching into fists like he were a child stripped of his toys, “You think you can take away everything I have worked for? You think that none of my soldiers will remain faithful to me?” He asked and soon the fire in his eyes was shifting to instead find Jongup, his finger pointing, “And _you-”_

 

“Speak very carefully, Kwon.” Himchan cut the man off, his voice cold as ice as the man turned towards the diamond that stood behind him. Jongup suspected Himchan had not yet ruled out the option of having Kwon pay in his blood, “This punishment is lenientcompared to what I could do to you if you enraged me further.”

 

“When my brother hears of this...” Jongup supposed it was meant to be a threat.

 

“If your brother knows what is good for him, he will keep his mouth shut. You walk a very fine line between ambition and treason and once that line is crossed, the nobility of your birth will not save you.” Slowly, Himchan stood, “Now get out.”

 

General Kwon's shoulders were tense and his face flushed red with the ill suppressed rage that Jongup could see was threatening to overflow. It was Yongguk who moved first, rising to his feet and pressing his palms flat together, “Cleric Song.” He said, the man stationed by his side stepping forward.

 

“Your Majesty.”

 

“Escort our General to the council chamber. My brother and I shall follow shortly.” Yongguk continued and the cleric nodded. He stepped forward and pulled open the door just enough for Kwon to storm out and into the corridor, followed soon after by the cleric in haste to catch up. Once again, the door fell closed and Yongguk turned to face those who remained, “Moon Jongup. Although your returning to my palace was not something I anticipated, it is something I am thankful for. My brother here believed you would not return.”

 

Jongup's hands met behind his back and his fingers folded together as he turned to address his King. It had crossed his mind more than once how his refusal to return to the palace with Daehyun could have angered their otherwise calm ruler, and earned him a punishment of his own. The soldier's spine was straight as he turned towards the man he had thought to be a friend, but whom he was no longer sure could be called such, “My brother, Jongin, was brought to the palace to seek medical help, Your Majesty. The Master General was kind enough to also bring my mother, second brother and I here to be by his side.”

 

“I see.” Yongguk's head tilted as he thought, his eyes shifting to survey his own brother carefully, taking in the way the Prince's own head turned to avoid such a gaze, “And your brother Jongin, how does he fare?”

 

“He is alive, Your Majesty. Right now that is a blessing enough.” Jongup replied.

 

“Praise be to Noeul's mercy.” Yongguk said in response. He took a step towards the young soldier, who's hair was tied messily aside, his robes simple and only thrown haphazardly upon his body. It was obvious the man had not anticipated coming before the King, and on closer inspection Yongguk did not believe the soldier had slept a full night in too long. It did not go unnoticed to the King, however, how the soldier stood strong by the Prince's side, nor how Himchan had so readily leapt in defence of the younger whom all knew was more than capable of protecting himself. The King stopped by the desk, where his hand found the familiar form of a clay horse and he lifted it into his palm. Thoughtful eyes surveyed across the rounded body and neatly formed mane, while his thumb rubbed at the underside of the creature's belly.

 

“Your talents far surpass your age, Jongup-ah.” The King continued, “Any man or woman would be lucky to have your skilled and faithful nature as one of their most trusted. Over the course of this Summer I have thought many times on how glad I was to have chosen you as my assistant, rather than another who's mind would be more full of ambition for wealth or power. What I have come to learn during your absence, however, is that a soldier was not meant for the life of a cleric. You were born for the battlefield and for strategy, not to be studious and silent”

 

Jongup's head remained high as he watched Yongguk turn the horse over in his palm, his gaze still focused upon it, “It is for this reason that I have selected a group of clerics to take over your role by my side. This position is better suited to them, and I am certain they are more fit to fulfil it than you.”

 

The soldier's throat felt tight and he nodded his head in acceptance of the dismissal, “As you wish, Your Majesty.” He said with a low bow.

 

“However.” Yongguk was not finished, and his gaze lifted from the horse in his palm, “Your understanding of not only battle, but the Palace is a valuable asset, and I know your skills cannot be wasted. As Master General, my brother is in need of an assistant of his own, a role I believe far more suited to you.”

 

Himchan's head lifted at this, his lips parting and his brows furrowing in surprise. Yongguk did not turn towards his younger brother, nor did he offer much more of an explanation, simply extending his hand and offering the horse he held to Jongup, “You may feel now as though your need is to be beside your family, but through a life in the Palace you are truly offering them a future of pride and honour. Your Father's loss is a loss to all of Huingol, and I am sure he would want this for you. Consider it.”

 

With the clay horse held tightly in his hand, Jongup watched the King go with nothing more said between them. He knew the man was right, that if he returned to the ranks of Huingol's army, his family would have so much more at risk. What if he and Jonghwan both lost their lives upon the battlefield, leaving their mother and brother alone with no one to depend on, he could not allow any more loss to find them. Slowly, the soldier turned around and with a deep breath, he placed the horse back down beside those already upon the desk, gentle as he neatened the line, “I assumed they would be discarded once I left. I am thankful they were not.” He said, lifting his gaze towards Himchan, who watched him with a furrowed brow.

 

The soldier took in the concern and uncertainty in Himchan's eyes as he stepped forward, “I did not want them coming to any more harm than I had already inflicted. You may take them with you.”

 

“No.” Jongup replied, his lips twitching upwards, his tired eyes blinking slowly, “Keep them. They belong more in here than they would with me.”

 

Himchan nodded in silence, taking in a deep breath as he watched Jongup's fingers brush lightly across each one of the clay animals. His touch was so tender, as though he would inflict them pain if he were to be too rough.

 

“I should return to Jongin.” The diamond boy said, tongue swiping across his lower lip.

 

Himchan nodded once more, “I shall walk with you.” He said.

 

They were silent as they made their way through the familiar tangle of twisting corridors. There was a kind of relief that settled in Jongup's stomach as he recognised the many faces of maids and clerics, even passing guards as they headed towards the bedchambers on the Northern side of the wing. With Himchan by his side, Jongup felt that this was right, it was the home where he now belonged. During the Summer months, these halls had been glowing with warm light, but now the grey sky was bringing long shadows to stretch across stone and he knew that even the familiar music of the many trickling streams would soon cease as the water froze over.

 

It did not take long for them to be rounding the corner towards Himchan's own private chambers that now housed the healing body of Jongup's eldest brother. He was eager to see him, though the thought of parting from the Prince had the soldier hesitating with uncertainty. In silence they stopped and turned, facing one another once again in the empty hallway. The sound of voices came muffled through the closed door, but neither made a move towards it.

 

“You may go.” Himchan said finally, his eyes sad and his brows furrowed, “When Jongin is well enough to return to your home, you may go. I do not want you by my side out of duty, Jongup. I want you here by choice.”

 

“This _is_ my home.” Jongup replied, his voice soft. Himchan shook his head and took a half step back, but Jongup followed, his hand reaching out and his fingers curling into the elder man's sleeve, “Wait...”

 

“You did not intend to return, and I will not force you to.” Himchan replied, “They will need you, and I know you want to be with them. You cannot disregard your family just because you see it as your duty.”

 

“I am bound to you by something much stronger than duty.” Jongup said, not releasing his hold as he took a step closer. Himchan was still, his eyes falling closed and a slow breath being exhaled through his nose.

 

“Jongup...” His tone was one of warning, his lips pressed into a thin line.

 

“When my brother is well once more, I will return with him to the city. I will stay with them until our concerns for his health are replaced by confidence but I will return.” Jongup's voice was soft, not much more than a whisper, “Do not doubt that I would always return to you.”

 

“You never said it.” Himchan replied, his eyes fluttering open and his gaze met those onyx eyes he loved so dearly, “The last night we spent together, you said you knew what I was going to say. You know how I feel for you, you know I want what is best for you, but you have never said it.”

 

Slowly, Jongup released Himchan's sleeve to instead raise both of his hands to take the prince's jaw in his tender hold. Palms warm against flesh, Himchan's eyes once more fell closed as ruby lips found his own in a loving kiss. Jongup tasted just as he remembered, and his head tilted into the pressure of mouth on mouth to fulfil the cravings he held for his greatest addiction. He found that now, the once unpracticed brushes of Jongup's tongue were natural in their ease and understanding of everything Himchan could desire, while his hands were firm in their loving hold of his face.

 

Himchan's own hands lifted and slipped into the messy strands of Jongup's agate hair as he allowed himself to drown in the soldier's natural divinity, and he knew then how he had missed his diamond love even more than he had anticipated. Neither was willing to part for air as they folded into one another, and finally became whole.

 

Too soon, the soldier withdrew and pressed his topaz forehead against Himchan's own, their lips wet and parted as they panted for lost breath. Fingers slipped from hair and instead the pad of Himchan's thumb rubbed against Jongup's lower lip, mesmerised by its pouted form and watching it move as the younger spoke.

 

“I love you.” He whispered into the autumn air, “Through every season, through every day, I will always return because I love you.”

 

Himchan's throat was thick with an emotion he did not wish to express, and simply he nodded in understanding of those treasured words he had wished so desperately to hear. Muted laughter rumbled through the door, and Jongup lifted his head, turning his gaze back towards it and Himchan knew that even though he could never relinquish his love for Jongup, right then he had to let him go.

 

“Go to them.” He said, withdrawing fingers from mouth, then hands from jaw before pulling back altogether, “They need you now.”

 

For the first time in what felt like an age, Jongup's smile was true and with one parting kiss he withdrew and moved towards the chamber. When the door opened, Himchan watched as Jongup returned to his family. Jonghwan's hand touched the centre of his back, while their mother pressed her lips to his cheek and laying upon the bed, Jongin turned his head and offered his little brother a weakened smile. His right eye was a haze of milky white, unseeing in its gaze, but even then Himchan could feel the love that shone there for his precious little brother.

 

As the door once again fell closed, Himchan turned away and walked alone down the hall. Even if they needed to part ways, Himchan was bound to Jongup like the tide to the moon and he had faith that they would always find one another in the end.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love all of you for reading this, and I cannot wait for us all to say goodbye to huingol together xo


	14. Epilogue

They rode from the Valley on the day the melt began. One wore robes of deep brown, the other of rich black as together they disappeared astride horses into the darkness of the late winter forests, suffocated under the freeze. For months, Huingol had lived beneath a heavy blanket of white. The clouds did not part, the leaves deserted the trees and all life disappeared into hibernation to protect themselves from the repressive chill.

 

Autumn that year had been long and wet, and the leaves took more time than usual to fall, but by the time they lay crisp and crumbling on the city streets, everyone knew that Summer was long gone. Chrysanthemums had bloomed, offering colour to the otherwise dreary landscape, but even they fell apart, their seeds taking to soil before it could be covered and they would no longer be capable of penetrating the earth. The herds of horses that usually strode like ghosts between the dense trees disappeared, while the many birds who graced the valley's branches flew south towards a promise of warmth.

 

Winter was formidable, but with every passing day those who lived within the walls of the golden capital held on to the knowledge that spring approached. Soon, the snow that crunched beneath their feet would soften into slush and expose the gravel streets, and green would take to the trees once more as days grew longer and the sun stronger. As the slow melt began, the first of new growth was teasing at the tips of only the tallest trees, promising that soon the first animals would return.

 

From atop the surrounding mountains, between rocky outcrops in a secret pass, both Himchan and Jongup could see the glowing green between the grey of their sleeping forest. By the time they returned home, the streams would be beginning to flow again, and the ice surrounding their frozen lake would soften. Although Himchan had always adored winter, he was relieved to see the coming of spring.

 

As the first of the returning birds flew over their heads, Himchan tugged at the reigns secured around Honggyu's nose and urged his stallion onwards to descend from the mountains, Jongup not far behind. With hooves steady against the loose stone road, the two strong horses carried their masters astride saddles marked with the insignia of the King towards the world beyond the safety of their Valley home. As they passed through low foothills, the road cut through farms and villages, and townspeople stopped to watch the figures pass them by.

 

Some had never before seen any person who lived in their Golden capital, and Jongup turned his head, seeing children gather by the road, their boot clad feet sinking into the mud created by the melting snow, all excited to see them pass. He wondered if any recognised Himchan as the Valley's own Prince, or if they were merely brushed aside as soldiers, maybe Palace officials. One man bowed low towards them and Honggyu swished his tail as his rider nodded to the villager in return.

 

Spring seemed to have already brought life back to the rest of the Peninsula as together they rode west. Between patches of still frozen snow, green grass could be seen along with the first buds of wildflowers, while herds of grazing deer slipped through close growing trees. Their teeth sunk into the sweet grass, tearing it at the root to drag across their tongue, relishing in the flavour that had been lost to them for months. Trees they passed were all but stripped of their bark by the hungry creatures, Jongup was thankful they were finally given the chance to feast.

 

In a clearing, between trees a flowing stream rushed over smooth stones and Himchan pulled Honggyu to a stop. Although ice still cut at the edges, the water ran smooth and once the Prince dismounted to stretch his tired legs, Honggyu stepped across wet grass to drink from fresh water. Jongup followed him to his feet and while their Horses grazed, they ate the food made for them by Daehyun.

 

Teeth sunk into the sweet flesh of dried fruit and tore at it, a tongue following to catch any juices threatening to fall while Himchan sat back against the trunk of a nearby sturdy tree. The ground was mostly dry and the sun warm against their skin as he called, “Jongup-ah... Come and sit.”

 

The soldier's head turned and he shifted, “What if danger lingers between these trees, Your Highness? A bodyguard should not let down his defence unless ordered.” He asks, expression blank but Himchan can see right through him.

 

With lips quirked and amusement heavy in his tone, the elder extended his hand, “Then I order you, my love, to sit with me.”

 

Jongup hooked his fingers around the bow slung across his back and unbuckled his quiver to lean both up against the tree beside them, allowing himself to be pulled down and into Himchan. Together they ate the cooled food, filling their bellies for the hours of riding yet to come while their trusted horses explored the ground nearby them. With light filtering between parting leaves, Himchan kissed Jongup and they were lost. It started slow, a simple press of mouth on mouth until another kind of hunger was overwhelming them and drawing them together in a nature from which they could never tire. Himchan's hands found the fastenings of Jongup's clothes, and the soldier's head tipped back as lips and tongue continued in their search across his topaz skin, reaffirming the love within which he was held.

 

Fingers pressed into skin, teeth found bone and Jongup arched his spine as he was finally filled after far too long of teasing. Himchan always had a way of playing his body like a well tuned instrument, drawing music from him in every brush of his fingers and now with his thighs burning and his lips swollen he was singing songs of pleasure. When they reached their peak it was together, and as Jongup looked down to Himchan's naked chest and satisfied smile, he realised an all new appreciation for religion.

 

With a hand tucked behind his head, the General hummed out a sound of content, his eyes fluttering closed. Jongup's palms rubbed gently over his chest until he lowed himself down completely and touched the side of his head to where he could hear the rhythm of his beloved's heartbeat.

 

“We should leave soon.” Himchan murmured, lips pressing to the crown of his head as fingers stroked gently through his hair.

 

“In a moment.” Jongup replied.

 

A chuckle rumbled from beneath the soldier's ear and his lips quirked at the sound. It always felt right to him, to hear Himchan's voice unlike any other was able to. Every night this was how he would fall asleep, secure in the arms where he felt most treasured, lulled to sleep by the familiar rhythm of a heart that beat for him. By the stream, Honggyu whinnied and emitted an equine snort, causing Jongup to once again push himself to sit, noticing the way Himchan winced at the over stimulation, releasing a groan of his own. The prince's eyes opened and he smiled, not yet quite willing to release Jongup from his hold.

 

“Why do you always look at me like that?” Jongup asked, shaking his head. The robes that hung loose around his body kept him warm, and he used one hand to draw them tighter around his shoulders.

 

“Am I not allowed to smile?” Himchan's tone was challenging, a brow quirking in question.

 

“I like it when you smile.” Jongup responded, his head dipping down once more to press their foreheads together. Himchan hummed and with lips parted he claimed the ruby mouth once again.

 

“I'll smile as long as I have you to love.”

 

The first droplets of rain fell from the sky, falling between rays of the failing sun. They dripped into the flowing stream and burdened fresh leaves with their weight, and Himchan decided it was time for them to leave. Once more, they sat astride their horses, and side by side they continued west.

 

When Spring dawned on the peninsula, there was always a feeling of hope that nestled tightly in the chest of all. For Jongup and Himchan alike the previous year had held more than enough challenges, and the changing seasons offered them the option of a new life. After the death of General Moon, it took Jongup a long time to find his feet again and as the days had grown shorter and darker, their family was slowly suffocated under the weight of their grief. Their home was soft and warm, but all within were plagued by the agony of the eldest Moon child, and none believed their loss was over.

 

It was not until winter that Jongin improved. The fevers passed and his injuries finally showed signs of healing over, after months of infection. Physicians doubts were replaced first by hope, then by certainty as the soldier grew stronger by the day and finally their family could sleep through the night. On occasion Jongup still caught his brother gazing half blind into his reflection, no longer able to recognise the face he once knew.

 

By midwinter, Jongup had returned to the palace and into the arms of his loving prince. Eunhye and even Yongguk had been pleased to see him return, and he settled back easily into the life he had once lived, and that had felt lost to him. It was amazing to him, how living beside Himchan came to him like a fish took to water, but when Himchan looked at him with those eyes so full of love, he knew that nothing else could ever come as naturally.

 

Their tired horses wound along the roads that twisted between the great forests of their peninsula home, their noses filling with the scent of pine and wood. If he were to look back now, Jongup would only just be able to see the mountains that surrounded Huingol peeking over the horizon. It was the furthest he had ever been from home.

 

Through parting trees, a town loomed ahead. Built from deep grey stone, the streets of Kil surrounded the fortress that stood tall and strong at their heart. Jongup guessed that to an invading army it would look formidable, but bathed in evening light the smoke rising from simple chimneys welcomed them. Himchan was greeted at the town gate by a procession of eager townsfolk, and together they lead their prince and his companion to the top of the hill, where they could be greeted by their hosts.

 

Yejin's hand rubbed at her rounded belly, her husband at her side as they waved with excitement to their guests. Himchan dropped to his feet and rushed towards his sister, Jongup taking charge of securing the horses reigns, preventing them from moving too far away, though he did not miss the way Himchan's hands rubbed at his sisters bulging stomach, his eyes wide with wonder and joy.

 

“If it is a boy, he will be named Yongnam.” Lord Kil said, hand anchored against his wife's spine.

 

“After our father?” Himchan asked, his gaze only just tearing away from where he was so mesmerised.

 

“After our father.” Yejin confirmed. Gently she guided her littlest brother down and planted a gentle kiss against his cheek, “Bring your love inside, Himchan-ah. I've missed you greatly.” She said.

 

“Not yet, Noona.” Himchan replied, his head turning and his hand reaching towards Jongup, “There is somewhere I wish to go first.” Jongup's fingers slipped between Himchan's without hesitation and the elder man squeezed. _Trust me,_ it said and Jongup smiled, squeezed back, _I do,_ he replied.

 

As the sun hung low in the sky, an unfamiliar bird called overhead and Jongup looked up. Himchan's hand was still tight in his as he pulled his diamond love between trees and up a steepened slope. The air smelled fresh, different, and wind whipped all around them, drawing goosebumps on any flesh Jongup left uncovered.

 

“Where are you taking me?” He asked, glancing over his shoulder to the darkness behind them.

 

“Just keep up.” Himchan replied. The ground was getting softer and slowly the dirt and stones beneath their feet gave way to sand. He felt as though each step he took was sucked in to the earth and he stumbled as Himchan tugged him once again to hurry further. Light was slipping from them as only the final rays of golden sun slipped through the knitted clouds, while a rumbling rhythm sounded from just over the next hill.

 

“Himchan,” Jongup tried, catching himself against the General's form as land corroded beneath his weight. The path was growing steeper, the trees thinner until there were none left at all and Jongup had to sink his hand into the dune to stop himself from falling until finally they reached the peak.

 

Before them was the ocean, an endless plain of indigo blue and Jongup forgot how to breathe. Waves crashed against sand and withdrew, dragging anything within reach into her salted embrace, and seagulls swooped low, catching fish that swam too close to the surface. Offshore, stone giants stood tall against their ocean bed with shadows folded beneath them, concealed in a haze of sea spray and ocean mist while around their base a different world of magic beauty was concealed by the white tipped swell that had no mercy even on the kindest soul. Jongup could not see a beginning nor an end, and he felt finally so small in comparison to the vast and powerful nothing.

 

“I told you I would bring you here one day.” Himchan said and he pulled Jongup once more, guiding him down to where the sand met the sea. He helped Jongup from his shoes, his hands holding his waist as the water teased at his toes, ice cold and frothed at the edge. On the far side of the beach, rocks rejected by land lay at the mercy of the tide and seaweed grew around their border, swaying side to side as water washed over them, slipping between every hole and curve eroded into the stone.

 

With eyes wide in wonder, the diamond boy turned to look at his golden prince. He opened his mouth to speak, but his throat was thick and his tongue would not cooperate in the salt tainted wind, but Himchan did not need Jongup to say anything. Through his nose, he exhaled, nudging gently at the shell of his ear, next to the corner of his jaw where stubble itched at the skin, “How blessed I have been to know your face.” He murmured, hands splayed at his waist.

 

With waves at his feet, Jongup's palm covered his mouth as finally emotion wracked his body and he choked on his tears. Himchan tightened his grip at the sound and cradled his lover close, allowing him to finally let go. Jongup cried for his father to whom he had never been able to say goodbye, and for Boyeon who was too young to die. He cried for Jongin's hand and his eyes and the fear that he would never be the same, he cried for Jonghwan who had seen too much. He cried for Himchan, Yongguk and Yejin who had forced their way through their grief, and he cried for his mother who smiled for him still, but whom he knew was so afraid of being alone.

 

“I've got you...” Himchan whispered into the spray, palm against his heart, “I will always have you.” Jongup cried because his body craved the release, because his mind had withheld his emotions for far too long but he did not cry for himself. On the horizon, the sun disappeared and together in the dying of the light they stood at the edge of the world.

 

Softly, Himchan hummed a song in his ear, and oxygen filled Jongup's lungs. He did not cry for himself because he did not need to, not when he was safe in the ocean of Himchan's love.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few months ago, I had a silly idea in a too-long car trip. Then I made a [Tweet](https://twitter.com/YongguksPelvis/status/708532058310647808) about it, then I filled half a notebook in one day, then somehow Valley of the Horse King came to life. Just when I thought that undertaking was enough, I decided also to bring Clay Horses into the world. When I was sitting in that car, thinking about how _cool_ it would be to create this world and all these characters I never once imagined it would make it to anything of this scale. 
> 
> To most of you reading, this is just a fan fiction, but these stories have taken up so much of my time, patience and heart since March and seeing it all laid out before me is the most incredible and surreal feeling. The support I've received through this (somewhat insane) journey has been amazing and I want to thank each and every one of you for loving Yongguk, Junhong, Himchan, Jongup, Daehyun, Youngjae, Hwayah and everyone else as much as I do, and for hating all my villains the right amount too. 
> 
> I do want to say a very special thank you to all of my amazing friends for reading, encouraging and supporting me (and for not getting SO SICK OF ME TWEETING ABOUT THIS OVER AND OVER AGAIN.) Your kind words mean more to me than I can say (again it's just fan fiction tilde dial it back I can't I'm feELING THINGS.) Most of all I want to thank [Moonyeyedwalrus](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Moonyeyedwalrus/pseuds/Moonyeyedwalrus), the greatest reader, support crew and friend I could have ever asked for through this whole thing. Clay Horses only exists because of and for you, thank you so much, and I love you so much.
> 
> I don't want to say this is the final goodbye to Huingol because who knows where my imagination will take me, but it is goodbye for now. 
> 
> Thanks again,
> 
> Tilde xo
> 
> [twitter](http://twitter.com/yonggukspelvis) | [tumblr](http://chngminxo.tumblr.com)


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